


He's Not Dead He Only Looks That Way

by thehotinpsychotic



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Frerard, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 24,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehotinpsychotic/pseuds/thehotinpsychotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is the new student at the school, and he's less than thrilled to be laughed at by his peers and pushed around by boys who could probably eat him. But it's not long before he meets Gerard Way, who protects him from an aggressor. Gerard takes the younger boy under his wing, and Frank sees him as the coolest motherfucker. But as he grows to know Gerard better, some of Gerard's emotional problems surface, causing Frank to pity the past idol. When Gerard asks Frank if he's gay, that's when things start to get hopeful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Frank stares himself down in the mirror, trying his best not to give too much attention to his ridiculous school uniform.  
The new kid again. Frank lets out a long sigh. Voicing his problems has never worked for him, but his friends used to say that when he’s not complaining, he’s not happy. And they’re right; Frank’s the type of guy that would sit through a terrible movie and just be content bitching about how awful it is.  
This skill comes in handy; he finds it easier to disassociate himself from his surroundings by providing an inner monologue. It’s probably not healthy, sure, but anything that means he can distract himself from the present is a good thing to him, even if it means missing out on what’s right in front of him because he’s too caught up in his head.  
Frank really doesn’t want to go to school here; nor does he want to live in this city. It’s their second move this year, and it probably won’t be the last. Frank and his mom (well, mainly his mom), are horrible abusers of urbanization. His mother keeps flocking to bigger and bigger cities for job opportunities, and she’ll drag Frank along, kicking and screaming. The primary reason Frank doesn’t like being a modern nomad, at least by his standards, is the size of the cities they go to. The bigger the cities are, the bigger the public schools are. The bigger the public schools are, the more kids there are. The more kids there are, the more likely Frank is to be bullied. Frank has enough trouble making friends as it is, and thrusting him into a completely unfamiliar environment with a herd or two of assholes about every five months isn’t helping.  
“Frank! You’re going to miss the bus!”  
Frank cringes at the word. A freshman riding the bus. In other words, a fucking nerd. But Frank can’t drive; he has his permit, but hasn’t taken driver’s ed, so he can’t drive himself to school, and his mom is busy; she has work, so she can’t drive him to school. So in the meantime, this overweight guy named Jack with diabetes will drive Frank to school in a bus full of screaming children seeing as it’s meant to hold, well, children, not high schoolers.  
Frank clomps down the steps, emphasizing his general resistance and anger with each stomp. He grabs his backpack, muttering,  
“See you, Mom.”  
“Bye, Frank. I love-”  
His mother’s goodbye is cut off by the shutting of the door. Frank walks up to the bus stop, which is only a ways up the street. He’s standing there, minding his own business, when these boys who are surely only in 7th grade approach him.  
“Are you a sixth grader?” one asks.  
“No, he’s a high schooler; look at his uniform!” the other points out.  
“Why are you riding the bus if you’re a fucking high schooler?” the boy scoffs.  
“Yeah, you pedophile,” the other laughs.  
Frank rolls his eyes. At least kids his age will have more entertaining insults.  
The bus slowly comes to a halt, and the doors open. Frank gets on after the boys, pointedly sitting as far away from everyone as he can. Which is directly behind the bus driver.  
The high school is the first stop, which is undoubtedly the luckiest thing that Frank imagines will happen to him today. This also means that every day, he’ll only ride the bus for about ten minutes, rather than twenty like the younger kids.  
The bus pulls up right at the front of the school, just alongside the seniors’ parking lot. As if this weren’t embarrassing enough, Frank is the only high schooler to get off his bus. A couple get off at the bus behind him, but he is alone.  
To start off the day with some emotional and physical battery, Frank’s not even inside the school when two seniors are tailing him.  
“Hey, you get dropped off at the wrong school, midget?” one smirks.  
Frank is trying to think of a clever remark, something that’ll teach this kid to back off. But all that comes out is the following, in a very small and childish voice, “Just leave me alone, okay?”  
“Oh, you want us to leave you alone?” the other mocks. He shoves Frank, demanding, “Well, it’s not about what you want, now is it, faggot?”  
“Look, it’s my first day; I don’t want any trouble, alright?” Frank squeaks, his voice coming out much wavier than intended. “Just find something better to do.”  
“Do you know what I think would be fun?” the taller boy asks.  
“What is that?” the other replies.  
“To go through midget boy’s backpack,” he snarls, grabbing Frank by the collar harshly. Frank is utterly helpless as his backpack is taken from him.  
“Give it back, please?” Frank begs. “I really just want to go to class; I won’t bug you guys, I swear.”  
“You know, nothing interesting is in here,” the boy dismisses, dumping everything in Frank’s bag out onto the floor. He kicks one of the folders and tosses the book bag across the hall, pushing past Frank, cursing,  
“See you later, fuckface.”  
Frank is close to tears of embarrassment as he scrapes all his belongings together. He’s pissed at himself for letting those boys walk all over him.  
The bell rings, and half of Frank’s… well… everything… is still distributed across the hallway. Frank groans; no way is he making it to class on time.  
Frank notices a shadow looming over him, and barks, “Look, two other assholes already ruined my fucking day, why don’t you go pick on someone else?”  
The shadow leans to the side and then straightens again. Finally, it disappears altogether as the figure kneels next to Frank, collecting some of his notebooks.  
Frank glances over to see who it is helping him. It’s this really wiry looking boy with horn rimmed glasses and light brown hair styled with more hairspray than what Frank’s mom uses.  
The final bell rings, indicating that they’re both late.  
“Why are you helping me?” Frank asks tiredly. “You’re late to class now.”  
The boy doesn’t say anything, just proceeds to scoop up Frank’s possessions and stuff them into his backpack. Frank rolls his eyes, and has given up on talking to the kid when he murmurs,  
“I’m Mikey. Who are you?”  
“Frank,” Frank responds. He struggles to say something else, but the boy hands Frank his now full book bag wordlessly, heading down the hallway at Mach speed, head ducked.  
Frank’s shoulders droop. The one friend he could’ve made today, gone. He gets up and slumps to class, kicking over a trashcan on the way there.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank drags himself through the halls after fifth period, already exhausted. His sleeping schedule is still out of whack; he took a few days off school while they were registering him here, and each night turned into morning as Frank played Xbox until 4:00 a.m.  
Each of Frank’s classes are quite uneventful, and he’s tired of being caught up by each teacher on a project or chapter the rest of the kids have an unmitigated head start on.  
It’s sixth period art class that he figures he’s the most screwed; his work ethic is pathetic enough as it is, and even the kids who work hard have troubles finishing up art projects. Imagine what’ll happen when they’ve already started it.  
Frank mopes in, tossing his backpack up on a random table and sitting. He rests his chin on his book bag and gazes around the room, not really focusing in on anyone or anything, but just staring off into space.  
“Are…. You’re Frank, aren’t you?” a boy asks.  
Frank whips his head over to where the voice had come from, failing to see anyone. He shrugs, figuring he imagined it. Wow, how sad is that? He turns his attention back to the general direction of nowhere, when he hears,  
“Frank!”  
He snaps his head over to the source of the noise, but again, no one is there. Frank groans, annoyed by whoever’s messing with him. But no one here really knows his name…  
Mikey pops up from underneath the table, smirking. “You are gullible, kid.”  
“Haha, very cute,” Frank murmurs.  
Mikey sits down next to Frank, telling, “We’re designing an original character today. Should be fun.”  
“Original character?” Frank takes a moment to process this. “You mean… like we could make a superhero?”  
“Well, yeah, I guess,” Mikey answers. “You like superheroes?”  
Frank nods, widening his eyes as he admits, “Like, a lot, actually.”  
There’s a bit of a silence, and Frank supposes that the social thing to do is to ask Mikey the same thing. “Do you like superheroes?”  
Mikey shakes his head. “No, that’s more of a Gerard thing.”  
“Gerard? Am I missing something?” Frank questions.  
“Oh, sorry. Gerard’s my brother,” Mikey explains. “He’s a junior, kind of weird guy. Hard to miss, to be honest.”  
Frank wonders what “hard to miss” could mean by Mikey’s understanding of the phrase, but he doesn’t ask.  
Frank is surprisingly focused throughout the class, and he still doesn’t get his drawing, which is due tomorrow, finished. Just more proof of the spectacular expectations of public school art teachers. Sometimes Frank wonders if the crazy due dates are just to punish those only taking it as an “easy course”, since they’ll have to work. But for kids who actually enjoy art, it isn’t really work, now is it?  
Frank carries his superhero drawing throughout the halls; he doesn’t want it to get crumpled in his bag. He’s surely going to be given grief over this, but he manages to lay low. That is, until the end of the day when he bumps headfirst into the chest of an honorary junior.  
“Hey, watch it!” the boy snarls.  
Under normal circumstances, Frank would mutter out an insincere apology and go rushing past. But he’s had a shit day, and he just wants everyone to know that he’s in a shitty mood when he barks back, “You fucking watch it, asshole!”  
Frank stops in his tracks after he realizes what he’s just said, and he immediately wishes he could take it back.  
“You think you’re tough, half pint?” the kid demands. He makes Frank face him and places a hand in the center of his chest, shoving him. “Come at me.”  
“I don’t want to fight,” Frank tells. “I’m sorry, really.”  
“Sorry isn’t enough!” the boy scoffs. He snatches Frank’s superhero drawing from his hands and holds it up to where Frank can’t reach it.  
Frank tries to jump up and grab it back, but it’s just too high up.  
“What would you do if I ripped it?” the boy asks with a malicious smile.  
“Please don’t; it’s my art project,” Frank pleads. “Seriously.”  
The boy tears the sheet into two pieces, then four, then eight. He lets them fall to the floor over Frank’s head, and Frank fucking loses it. He starts crying as he picks up the scraps of paper, and the boy’s guffawing is far too much for him to bear. He launches himself at the boy, who retaliates by punching Frank in the gut and standing, kicking the smaller and younger boy. Frank coughs harshly, and he’s being pinned on his belly the next thing he knows.  
He feels his underwear start to ride up, and suddenly it’s yanked halfway up his back by the junior. The boy’s laughing, and so are most of the other kids in the hallway. Frank buries his head into the ground, a humiliated and sobbing mess.  
“Hey!”  
Frank hears the laughter come to a concerning halt, and even his attacker pauses.  
“Get the fuck off of that kid before I tear you limb from limb, you got it?” the voice threatens.  
The boy gets off Frank, and out of the corner of his eye, Frank can see him retreat. Frank lays on the ground, so embarrassed that all he wants to do is stay there.  
“Hey, get up,” that same voice orders. Frank looks up, to see the kid who scared the aggressor away offering Frank his hand.  
Frank takes it warily, and is pulled to his feet.  
“Are you okay?” the boy asks. He has sharp, definite features, and black stringy hair that falls halfway down his neck. But of course, the distinctive feature in the boy is his teal roots.  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Frank mumbles, his face still red. He kicks part of his drawing wistfully.  
“Oh, geez, I’m sorry about your art,” the kid apologizes. “I can help you make a new one, though. I’m decent at drawing, so if you want-”  
“No, that’s fine, thanks,” Frank responds. “I think I’ll just be heading home.”  
Frank heads off, but is stopped when he hears the boy call,  
“Kid, wait!”  
Frank stops, and he hears footsteps behind him. He’s about to turn around when he feels a hand by his waistband. “What the fuck are you doing?!”  
He turns around on a dime to glare at the older boy, who is standing in shock. “Y-your, your underwear is still sticking out.”  
Frank’s skin manages to grow to an even deeper red as he tries to tuck his briefs back into his pants. “Why… why are you being so nice to me?”  
“Someone’s got to,” the boy answers earnestly. “You’re the new kid, right?”  
“Yeah,” Frank admits.  
“So I bet you don’t have any friends yet?” the kid asks.  
“Well, I kind of have one,” Frank confesses.  
“Me?” the boy questions.  
“No, not you!” Frank snaps.  
The boy looks hurt; like Frank had punched him in the face and spat on him rather than just used a harsh tone. He tries to make up for it, stating,  
“I’m Frank. And… I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you help me out on my art.”  
“I’m called Gerard,” Gerard counters. “We can go to my house, if you want. My parents aren’t home. I really have to drive my little brother there, anyways, so it’d be a lot more convenient.”  
“Sounds good. Does your little brother go here?” Frank inquires.  
Gerard nods. He walks towards the front doors, and Frank jogs to catch up with him. “Knowing him, he’s already in the car.”  
Frank follows Gerard into the junior parking lot. Gerard crosses daringly, casually passing a huddle of kids smoking. Frank coughs, and Gerard can’t hide his grin, asking,  
“Can’t handle smoke, Frankie?”  
“I actually have some lung troubles,” Frank confides.  
“Do you want me to tell them to stop?” Gerard offers, brows knitted.  
“No, it’s fine,” Frank insists, stifling another cough.  
“I smoke too, but I won’t around you,” Gerard informs.  
“Don’t worry about it,” Frank replies, wheezing. “You can smoke wherever you want.”  
“Nope, not when you’ll be coughing. I’m not that kind of guy, Frank,” Gerard explains.  
They reach his car, and someone’s already in the passenger seat, sure enough. Frank hops into the back, peering forward to get a look at who it is.  
“Gerard, what took you?” the passenger demands. “I know you’re slow, but damn!”  
“Sorry,” Gerard apologizes, not really answering the other boy’s question. “I ran into Frank here and we got to talking.”  
The boy in the front seat looks back, and grins when he sees Frank. “Frank! Short time, no see!”  
Frank blinks. “Mikey? You’re Gerard’s brother?”  
Mikey puts a hand to his chest, nodding as he answers, “It’s a struggle.”  
“Haha, very funny, Mikes,” Gerard replies flatly.  
Mikey sticks his tongue out at Gerard, and Frank can’t help but giggle. Gerard shoots a glare back at him, and for a second, he looks really scary with his dark hair hanging in his intense eyes. Frank’s eyes widen, and finally, Gerard breaks into a smile, patting Frank’s knee as he says,  
“I’m just busting your balls, Iero.”  
“Let’s go already!” Mikey groans, kicking at the glove compartment. It pops open on him, spilling out a few magazines, a tube of nuts, along with a few pairs of sunglasses.  
“Pick it up,” Gerard orders as he pulls out of the parking lot.  
Mikey pouts as he replaces the glove compartment’s contents, mumbling to himself grouchily.  
Gerard takes an abrupt stop, making Frank’s heart lurch in his chest as he is flung forward and then back into the headrest, smacking his head.  
“Ouch, watch it!” Mikey barks.  
“Maybe if you wore a seatbelt, that wouldn’t happen,” Gerard suggests.  
They drive off to the Ways’, Frank texting his mom to tell her where he is. Frank peers over at Gerard, the taller boy with scraggly hair and faint stubble, pale skin and who reeks of cigarettes. The first thing Frank heard Gerard ever utter was a threat, and despite this, Frank can’t get enough of the kid.  
Frank leans his head back against the windows, and wonders that if it were anyone else, the circumstances would be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon. 
> 
> My Tumblr: www.waydown.co.vu


	3. Chapter 3

Mikey ends up joining Frank and Gerard in their hangout session, which consists of them hanging out in Gerard’s room (a dimly lit basement) watching horror movies, eating and drinking pop, and talking.  
Frank’s having an awesome time, when halfway through The Children, Gerard pulls a cigarette out of his front pocket. He places it between his lips, lighting it. Frank braces himself for Gerard’s first exhale, and holds back his coughs when Gerard blows the smoke out.  
Gerard glances over at Frank and immediately turns white as a sheet, stubbing out his cigarette hastily on his slacks as he smiles sheepishly. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”  
“No, it’s okay,” Frank lies, his eyes watering from the smoke already in the air.  
Gerard looks down at his singed pants, and curses, “Shit! Anyone know how to fix this?”  
Mikey scrunches his nose at the burned fabric, questioning, “Why are you apologizing?”  
“Frank has bad lungs,” Gerard explains, poking at the small hole burned into his pants.  
“Well, not necessarily bad,” Frank mutters. “Just not fully functional.”  
“So, bad,” Mikey replies with a smirk.  
Frank makes a face at him before turning his attention back to the screen.  
Gerard’s still fussing with the mark left by the cigarette, rubbing at it and even applying spit to it, with no luck. Finally, he stands, unzipping his trousers.  
Frank tenses up, and asks, “What are you doing?”  
Gerard, brows furrowed, answers simply, “I’m changing pants. I need to either mend these or toss em.” With that, he undoes the button as well and yanks his pants to his ankles.  
Frank snaps his head in the opposite direction before he can get a good look at Gerard’s legs or underwear and give an overwritten lengthy description based on them. He can tell by the heat in his cheeks and on the back of his neck that he’s going as red as a tomato.  
Gerard chuckles, “Frank, you can look now.”  
Frank peeks over at Gerard, to see that he’s traded his school regulation pants for a pair of Invader Zim pajama bottoms. Gerard sits back up on the bed, and Frank gestures at his choice of clothing, asking,  
“A bit early for pajamas, isn’t it?”  
“Kurt Cobain got married in pajamas,” Gerard informs. He leans back, shaking his head as he continues, “It’s never too early for pajamas.”  
It’s about five when Gerard realizes, “Shit, Frank, are we ever going to redo your art or what?”  
Frank groans, “Shit, I forgot about it. I don’t have any supplies or anything.”  
“Well, I have plenty. You can use them, if you want,” Gerard offers. He stands, stumbling over to his cluttered desk, overran with papers and notebooks. He produces a sketch pad and a package of high quality markers and hands them to Frank wordlessly.  
“Are… are you sure I can use these?” Frank asks, nodding towards the art supplies.  
“I don’t see why not,” Gerard responds. “Why do you ask?”  
“I was… I was kind of troublesome as a little kid, y’know?” Frank confesses. “Like, I’d break everything and be mean to everyone. I basically wasn’t trusted with anything expensive or brand new, so I’m not really all that used to nice things.”  
Gerard’s brows tilt in sympathy, and he changes the uncomfortable subject by asking, “Do you want me to help?”  
“I think I got it,” Frank mutters, outlining the head of his superhero.  
“Wait!” Gerard barks, rushing over. He takes Frank’s hand and straightens out his wrist, explaining, “You were going at a really weird angle. It’s all in your wrist.” He guides Frank’s hands to sketch out the eyes, telling, “See?” as he releases him.  
“Thanks,” Frank mumbles, proceeding to draw. Frank’s not much of an artist, so he can only imagine how horrific it is for Gerard to watch him create such an artistic monstrosity.  
Frank’s afraid that Gerard will be rude about it; as he’s clearly not the type to beat around the bush. But Gerard just hovers over the paper, remarking, “I like your style. Very unique.”  
“You… you don’t think its shit?” Frank stammers.  
Gerard grins and shakes his head. “Hopefully you don’t either.”  
Frank smiles, and buries his head into the sketchbook to try to hide it.  
Gerard’s smile is faint on his lips and he leans over Frank, watching him draw. Frank begins to get nervous with Gerard looming over him, and he manages to fumble the pen.  
The pen flies from his hands and rolls across the room. Frank groans and starts to rise, but Gerard puts a hand on his shoulder, telling, “I’ve got it.” He crosses the room, grabbing the pen, and tosses it back to Frank, who is barely able to catch it.  
Mikey asks, “Gerard, are Mom and Dad gone this weekend?”  
Frank jumps at his voice, and it’s embarrassing to admit that he completely forgot Mikey’s obvious presence in the room.  
Gerard nods, replying, “Yeah, why?”  
“Do you want to have a party?” Mikey questions. “I have some friends coming over anyways.”  
“Which friends?” Gerard inquires.  
“Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump,” Mikey answers.  
“I don’t know if I like Pete,” Gerard admits.  
“Why not?” Mikey demands.  
“He’s kind of a little shit,” Gerard responds.  
Mikey rolls his eyes, and nudges Frank, almost making him fuck up a stroke. “Frank, are you coming?”  
“To a party?” Frank asks. “I dunno; that’s not really my kind of thing.”  
“But Frank, it’ll be fun!” Mikey insists. “And there’ll be drugs and beer, if you’re into that stuff! It’s great; trust me. Ask anybody at Bellville high and they’ll all tell you that the Ways throw a kickass house party.”  
“‘The Ways?’” Frank repeats.  
“Um, our last name,” Gerard elaborates. “Yours?”  
“Iero,” Frank answers. “And, about the party… I really don’t know…”  
Gerard pouts. “Please, Frank? It’d mean a lot. Usually it’s just all of Mikey’s friends. I’d like to enjoy one for once.” Gerard gives his best hazels to Frank, and unintentionally flutters his thick lashes.  
Frank just fucking melts, and he’s ashamed of how soon he agrees to go after being so reluctant. Gerard seems happy to have Frank on the attending list though, which is all that really matters to Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon. 
> 
> My Tumblr: www.waydown.co.vu


	4. Chapter 4

Frank finds himself nervous all Friday afternoon, and his anxiety levels only seem to increase as the time of the party inches nearer and nearer. Gerard has always been good at picking up on people’s feelings, so on the way to his car with Frank and Mikey, he gives Frank a pat on the back, assuring,  
“You’ll be fine, trust me.”  
They make a detour to Frank’s house, where Frank insists,  
“You guys stay in the car, okay? If you get in there, my mom will eat you alive.”  
Mikey raises a brow, questioning, “She’s a bigger lady?”  
“What? No, I mean, like she’ll be all over you with brownies and pinching your cheeks and telling you what colors compliment your eyes and shit like that,” Frank elaborates.  
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Gerard responds.  
“Just… just stay in here, alright?” Frank pleads. He heads inside, kicking off his shoes and tossing his backpack to the floor.  
“Frank, you’re home?” his mom calls from her own room.  
“Can’t talk, gotta change!” Frank replies loudly. He shuts the door to his room, stripping off his uniform as he makes his way to his dresser. He pulls out a pair of black skinny jeans and squirms into them, followed by a studded belt, then a Bad Brains t shirt, which is paired with a flannel.  
He stomps into some Converses, barreling down the steps. He opens the door when he hears a strangely boyish voice coming from the dining room.  
He peeks around the corner to see Mikey sitting at his kitchen table, just having a grand old time chatting it up with his mother while he stuffs his face with vegan chocolate chip cookies.  
“Frank! Why didn’t you introduce me to Mikey?” his mom demands. She waddles across the kitchen, smacking Frank’s wrist lightly with her spatula. “I never get to see your friends anymore. Whatever happened to Corey; I haven’t seen him in ages!”  
“Can we not talk about it now?” Frank begs. “We have to go.”  
“So soon?” his mom questions.  
“Yeah, why in such a rush, Frank? The party doesn’t start until 9:00,” Mikey points out.  
Frank tries his hardest to keep Mikey from dropping the party bomb in front of his mom, but he just really drops the ball and doesn’t even manage to come up with a cover story.  
“Party?” his mom asks. “Like a birthday party?”  
“No, a house party!” Mikey answers. “With music and girls and-”  
Frank slaps a hand over Mikey’s mouth, but it’s too late; the damned kid’s spilled the beans twice now.  
“Frank, you’re going to a high school party?” Frank’s mother asks incredulously.  
“Well, yeah,” Frank murmurs, lowering his gaze to the ground.  
“I knew this would come up eventually, so I have three rules for you. Number one: Have a designated driver. I don’t want to hear about you on CNN, alright? Number two: Pour your own drink and don’t put it down. Again with the CNN thing. Number three, the last rule, is to get no ladies pregnant, because no way in hell am I going to take time off work to take care of your bastard child,” Frank’s mother rants.  
Mikey’s laughing out loud by the end of her guidelines, but Frank’s just rolling his eyes, agreeing, “Yeah, okay, Mom.”  
He grabs Mikey by the wrist, ordering, “Let’s go” as he pulls the boy to his feet.  
He’s almost out the door when it swings open from the other side. Gerard is standing there, and he looks surprised to see Frank with Mikey in tow.  
“Gerard?” Frank asks. “What’re you doing?”  
“I came to get Mikey,” Gerard replies. “He said he just had to use the bathroom, but he was in there for a while.”  
“I never did use it,” Mikey realizes, clutching onto his crotch as he zooms towards the bathroom.  
Frank’s mom makes her way over, dusting her hands off on the front of her pants before shaking Gerard’s hand. “My, my, another one of Frankie’s friends! Aren’t you cute?”  
“Thank you,” Gerard mutters, blushing already. “You’re Frank’s mom?”  
She nods, and wraps her arms around Frank, proceeding, “He may not act like it, but he’s a momma’s boy.” She kisses Frank’s cheek, and he squirms away, wiping his face, which is red from embarrassment.  
Gerard chuckles, “Oh, I can see it now.”  
Frank gives him a death glare, but it’s hard to look intimidating when he’s not only blushing furiously but also looking up at him.  
Mikey appears, announcing, “Let’s go now.” He hugs Frank’s mom, calling, “Bye, Mrs. Iero!” on his way out of the house. Gerard waves, and Frank just ducks his head and focuses on the cracks in the sidewalk.  
Once they’re rumbling down the road, Gerard says,  
“Frank, your mom was very nice.”  
“She’s embarrassing,” Frank murmurs, picking at his fingernails.  
“At least she cares about you,” Gerard points out. “Mikes and I aren’t so lucky.”  
“What do you mean?” Frank questions.  
“Have you seen our parents once?” Gerard asks.  
Frank considers this, and then shakes his head. “No, I guess I haven’t.”  
“That’s because they’re either ignoring us or leaving town to get away from us. They’re gone nearly every damned weekend, why do you think we’re known for such kickass house parties?” Gerard reasons.  
“Wow,” Frank realizes. “I’m sorry.” Frank peers over at Gerard, to see his hazel eyes flick out to the road.  
“It’s okay,” Gerard decides. “They’re paying my ass through school, so I can’t really complain.”  
Frank wants to tell Gerard that he deserves better, but something tells him that he’s a long way gone from their conversation.  
They get to the Ways house and make some party preparations, which means calling their drug dealer, sending out party invitations via mass text, and dipping into their wallets to buy a keg. Apparently they have a burnout neighbor named Greg who takes their money and uses it to buy liquor for them. Frank isn’t too thrilled about meeting Greg, so he busies himself with organizing Gerard’s stacks of video games while the exchange is being made upstairs.  
Frank is called up just before people start to arrive for a pep talk from Gerard.  
“I’m nervous,” Frank admits. “I’ve never been to one of these.”  
“You’ll do great, okay?” Gerard promises. “Just get your own drink and never set it down.”  
“Yo!”Mikey calls from the dining room. He’s texting away as he informs, “Michelle Grayson and her friends are going to be here.”  
“Oh, shit!” Gerard curses. “She’s coming here?!”  
“Yeah, that’s a good thing,” Mikey replies.  
“No, no it’s not!” Gerard insists. “She and her friends are mean!”  
“Gerard, do you even hear how ridiculous you sound? Grow up! I have a chance with her, so she’s coming,” Mikey retorts.  
“No, she’s not,” Gerard growls. “Tell her she can’t come.”  
“No, that’ll fuck up everything I had going with her!” Mikey responds.  
“I don’t care!” Gerard shouts. “She can’t come, okay?”  
“Stop being such a pussy,” Mikey spits. “You’re acting like a little bitch.”  
Gerard tackles him, twisting Mikey’s arm behind his back and getting him squealing.  
Frank is torn; Mikey was asking for it to a degree, but at the same time, Frank is aware that Gerard can probably really hurt Mikey, intentionally or not. Frank pries Gerard off, yelling, “Break it up!” He faces Gerard asking, “What’s your deal with her?”  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gerard mumbles. “Well, if you won’t give me a reason, I have no choice but to let her come, don’t I?” Frank points out. He helps Mikey to his feet, who flips off Gerard and storms out of the room.  
Frank sits down a few minutes before the party starts, already having dealt with an abundance of drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon.  
> My Tumblr: varsityfrank


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mixup, chapter four was originally left out, but is now up!

People start to show up around nine, and by nine thirty, the entire street is lined with cars, Mikey’s run off with his own group of friends, and already drugs are being passed around by a number of partygoers. Frank had thought that his mom was being overdramatic, but he finds her rules handy when it comes to not putting his drink down.  
Gerard nudges Frank and nods towards a group of pretty girls huddled by the TV. “That’s Michelle and her friends.”  
“And?” Frank questions.  
“They’re such bitches!” Gerard whispers.  
“Well, a lot of people are. Get used to it,” Frank reasons. “Why are you so bothered by it?”  
Gerard’s quiet, and Frank realizes,  
“Are they mean to you?”  
“Shut up,” Gerard growls, taking a swig of his beer. “Look, it’s no big deal, it’s just-” Frank begins.  
“I said shut up!” Gerard shouts, crumpling his cup and causing the contents of it to splash onto the floor.  
“Gerard? Come over here!” Michelle calls.  
Gerard glances over wide eyed, and gives Frank a fearful look.  
“You’re fine,” Frank assures. He pushes Gerard towards the cluster of teenage girls, encouraging, “I’ll be right over here, okay?”  
“Okay,” Gerard mumbles, setting his mangled cup down on the banister as he heads over.  
“Gerard, how are you?” Michelle asks, touching Gerard’s forearm.  
Gerard raises and eyebrow, but manages to reply, “I’m good, how are you?”  
“Kind of bored,” she admits. She purses her lips and scooches closer to Gerard, offering, “We can get out of here, go to my car?”  
“Um…” Gerard murmurs. He peeks over at Frank, who gives him a thumbs up. Gerard grins and turns back to Michelle, agreeing, “Yeah, let’s go.”  
She takes Gerard’s hand, and he nearly jumps he’s so startled. He wonders what brought on her dramatic change of heart as they head outside.  
Frank smiles to himself, knowing that Gerard is definitely getting laid, and that it wouldn’t have happened without Frank’s reassurance. He takes a sip of his beer and only cringes slightly this time.  
“Hey,” a girl’s voice greets.  
Frank peers over to see a totally gorgeous girl standing next to him, smiling. He figures that she must’ve branched off from Michelle’s group by her Miss Me shorts, Toms, and floral crop top.  
“Hi,” Frank responds, subconsciously taking a large drink of his beer to try to prepare himself for the awkward conversation.  
“What’s your name?” the girl asks. “I’m Katie, by the way.”  
“Frank,” Frank answers. “Are you from around here?”  
Katie nods, adding, “I’m pretty positive I go to your school, actually. You’re the new kid, right? Frank….”  
“Iero,” Frank concludes. “Frank Iero.”  
“Katie Reynolds,” she counters.  
There’s a short silence, and Katie’s eyes flick around the room briefly. Lowering her voice, she asks, “Do you know where a separate room is? All the music and talking and everything are giving me a headache.”  
“Um, yeah!” Frank squeaks, becoming nervous. He really hopes that she actually does have a headache and isn’t secretly looking to get them alone together. “We can go into Gerard’s room.”  
They start down the basement steps, and as soon as Frank shuts the door, Katie’s lacing her fingers with his. Frank is positive that his hand is super clammy, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she holds on tight.  
“So… you know Gerard pretty well?” Katie questions.  
“Uh, I haven’t known him long, but I think we’re pretty solid friends,” Frank answers. “Is he gay?” Katie asks. “I’ve heard that from about seven or eight people now.”  
Frank’s heart beats a bit faster at the idea of Gerard possibly being attracted to him. He manages to keep his cool as he replies, “I actually don’t know.”  
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Katie demands.  
“It’s never come up, I guess,” Frank admits.  
Once they’re in Gerard’s room, Katie kicks her shoes off, lying on Gerard’s bed. Frank begins to wonder if Gerard would be okay with Frank bringing a girl in here. Considering that she allegedly has a painful headache, Frank finds it acceptable.  
She eventually gets bored of lying there and starts to look around, poking through Gerard’s things with mild interest. “Was Gerard fat as a kid?”  
Frank’s seen Gerard’s stretch marks only a few times; Gerard usually does a good job of keeping them out of sight, for whatever reason. He has them on his upper arms, and probably on his stomach too, but Frank’s never seen him shirtless, so he can’t exactly vouch for that. “I think so.”  
Katie heads back to the bed, and lowers Frank on it as well. She locks eyes with Frank before kissing him gently.  
Frank flinches, and he’s completely frozen for the entire kiss. She pulls his shirt off before taking off her own, and all the sudden, there are her boobs like inches away from his own chest. Frank starts to panic when she starts on his zipper, and he interrupts,  
“Wait!”  
Katie stops immediately, asking, “What’s wrong?”  
“I’m, uh, saving myself for marriage!” Frank lies.  
“Oh,” Katie responds, somewhat disappointed. She leans on her side, and runs a hand through Frank’s hair, deciding, “Well, that’s okay. I think it’s sweet.”  
“Thanks,” Frank says softly.  
Katie trails her hand down Frank’s stomach, telling, “You know, you have a sexy body. Has any girl ever told you that?”  
Frank shakes his head. “I’ve never been with another girl.”“You’re so sexy,” Katie murmurs. “Thanks,” Frank replies.  
Katie sits up, her brows furrowed. “Don’t you think I’m sexy?”  
“You’re beautiful,” Frank answers truthfully.  
“But am I sexy?” Katie demands.  
Frank is sure that to most straight guys, Katie’s a very sexy girl, but to a gay boy like Frank, she’s only beautiful. “Uh….”  
“Get out!” Katie barks, covering herself. “Get out, now Frank.”  
Frank gathers his things and stumbles out the door, in a daze. He figures that since that was a bust, he’ll try to find Gerard, and heads upstairs to look for him.


	6. Chapter 6

Once they get to Michelle’s car, she immediately disrobes, pulling off her shirt and leaving it by the steering wheel. She sits in her lacy black bra and jeans and pulls of Gerard’s shirt as well, kissing him wildly.  
In between heavy kisses, she admits,  
“I’m going to be…. Straight with you… I’m just doing this…. To get back at my boyfriend.”  
Gerard stops, questioning, “Wait a minute, you’re using me?”  
Michelle smiles sheepishly and nods, continuing, “He cheated on me, so I’m just doing the same. And I figured I’d do it with the dorkiest guy I could find-”  
“Gee, thanks,” Gerard growls.  
“You didn’t let me finish,” Michelle says. She places a hand on Gerard’s cheek, concluding, “The dorkiest guy I could find that’s still hot.”  
Gerard blushes, and asks, “So, we’re doing this?”  
She grins and nods, adding, “By the way, keep your stretch marks far away or I’ll gag.”  
A pit forms in Gerard’s stomach, but he ignores it, agreeing, “Sure thing.” He undoes his belt and carefully removes his silver bat buckle. He shimmies his skinnies down to his ankles and leans over Michelle, a hand draped over her breast as he kisses her neck.  
Michelle unhooks her bra and writhes out of it, placing it on the backseat. She rolls off her jeans, followed by her panties, which stay hooked around her ankles as Gerard towers over her, taking off his own boxer briefs and tossing them across the car.  
Gerard tangles a hand in her hair as he fucks her, and she loves it.  
She’s not loud, in fact, she’s as quiet as a mouse, but it’s obvious by her expressions that this is the best sex she’s had in a while.  
For Gerard, this is the second time he’s gotten laid this month, the first time being in a bathroom at Adventure Land. Michelle’s totally fucking gorgeous, and she’s got an amazing body, but for some reason, it’s just not doing it for him. He’s pondering what’s missing when Michelle interrupts,  
“Um, Gerard? You’re going soft.”  
Gerard pulls out, turning red at an alarming rate. He tries to work his own cock a little, but it’s not use; he’s just getting less and less firm by the second.  
Michelle rolls her eyes, stating in a bored tone, “Wow, you fucking lost your boner in the middle of sex. Can’t say that’s ever happened to me before.”  
“I’m sorry, really, I’ve never had this problem,” Gerard apologizes. He tries to shut his eyes and imagine something sexy, but that’s not helping either.  
“That was good enough, I guess,” Michelle murmurs. “You actually got your dick wet.”  
“Are you sure? You don’t want me to go down on you or anything?” Gerard asks. “I’m really good at it.”“No, that’s fine,” Michelle assures. “I just needed a good fuck, and that’ll have to do.”  
Gerard slips into his underwear, repeating, “I’m sorry, I really am.”  
“It’s not your fault,” she admits. “And it was pretty good while it lasted.” She turns around, bending over to feel around the backseat. She finally grabs a Sharpie, uncaps it, and grabs Gerard by the boxer briefs, writing her phone number on the waistband. “Call me if you want to do this again, okay?”  
“Will you still be with your boyfriend?” Gerard asks. “I don’t want to intrude.”  
“You just did, remember?” Michelle points out. “And we’re staying together as far as I know.”  
Gerard squirms into his jeans, followed by his shirt and shoes. He’s shoved out of the car and dismissed with a mere peck on the cheek and a wink of the eye.  
Gerard wanders back to the house, figuring that he might as well get himself drunk. Before he can make it to the keg, he runs into Frank, who greets, “Gerard, hey! How’d things go with Michelle?”  
Gerard immediately turns pink just thinking about it, so he lies, “Fine!”“Good, good,” Frank mutters, busying himself with his fingernails.  
“Do you want to hang out in the backyard?” Gerard suggests. “We can listen to music from the car. It’s absolutely gorgeous out.”  
“Sounds good,” Frank decides, following Gerard outside.  
They lay out on the hood of Gerard’s car, Gerard’s hands behind his head and Frank’s resting across his ribcage. They’re listening to the Smashing Pumpkin’s Melon Collie And The Infinite Sadness album. Frank’s never heard it, but Gerard swears that it’s the best thing they’ve ever released, so Frank takes his word for it.  
Smack dab in the middle of another song with growly vocals, Gerard asks, “So, Frank? Did you ever get laid?”  
Frank blushes, confessing, “Almost. Not quite.”  
They’re silent for what feels like forever, and Frank really hopes that Gerard’s satisfied with his answer and won’t press further. Just when Frank thinks he’s out of the sexuality dog house, Gerard questions, “You’re gay, aren’t you?”  
Frank nearly falls off the car he’s so surprised, but he manages to limit his movement to widened eyes and raised eyebrows. “How… how do you know?”  
Gerard snorts, “How could I not? Frank, some things in this world are obvious.”“Well, no one knows!” Frank retorts. “You have to promise you won’t tell anyone!”  
“I won’t, I swear,” Gerard promises. He adds quietly, “They probably already know.”“Stop, just stop,” Frank snaps. “It’s not funny, I’m fucking serious.”  
“Why?” Gerard questions. “What’s so bad about people knowing?”  
“My dad would kill me, that’s what’s bad about it,” Frank responds. “He can’t know, okay? So you can’t tell anyone.”  
“Well, if that’s what you want,” Gerard mumbles, head ducked.  
“What about you?” Frank questions after a few moments silence. “A girl tonight asked me if you were gay, and I was pretty surprised that I didn’t know the answer.”  
Gerard thumbs the rim of his plastic cup, then tipping it to his lips to swallow the last few gulps of alcohol. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, and it’s right before Frank’s about to repeat the question when Gerard answers,  
“I’m bisexual, but I lean towards guys.”  
Frank considers this, deciding, “That makes sense.”  
They lay in silence for a while until Gerard suggests, “You know, you can just spend the night. It’s pretty late, and you’re definitely drunk.”  
Frank shakes his head, topping off his beer. “I’m not drunk, just buzzed.”  
“Well the point is, I doubt there’s a designated driver, and some of Mikey’s friends are crashing anyways,” Gerard explains. “It’s no trouble.”  
“Okay,” Frank answers. “I’ll spend the night.”  
Frank glances over to see Gerard smiling at him. Frank gets all flustered and immediately flicks his eyes in the other direction, but he can feel that Gerard’s still looking at him, and when he eventually does glance over him, Gerard’s just grinning at him like a doting idiot.  
“What? What is it?” Frank sighs.  
Gerard just keeps that stupid smile on his face and turns his head, and doesn’t ever answer him.


	7. Chapter 7

Gerard and Frank don’t venture back inside until past 5 a.m. when everyone’s gone home, save the boys spending the night at the Ways’.  
Frank follows Gerard into the house and down to this room, where he offers, “Do you want to borrow pajamas? I know, skinnies are cute, but such a bitch to sleep in.”  
“Um, sure,” Frank decides. He’s immediately tossed a pair of camouflage sleep pants, and Gerard’s pulling down his pants already, leaving him in his shirt and grey underwear. He steps into some plaid bottoms and waltzes over to his bed, gazing at Frank absently.  
Frank blushes and tries to make himself as small as possible as he slithers out of his tight jeans, balling them up and leaving them on the floor. He really wishes that he hadn’t worn his Batman briefs, but there’s really not much he can do about that at the moment, so he just slips into the lounge pants as fast as he can. He sits on the floor, asking, “Can I have a blanket and a pillow?”  
Gerard raises a brow, inquiring, “You  _want_  to sleep on the floor?”  
“Well there’s no other option, is there? The couch is all taken up with Mikey’s friend,” Frank reasons.  
Gerard pats the space on the bed next to him, responding, “But there’s room in the bed.”  
Frank does his best to hide his red cheeks as he slides into bed with Gerard, tucking the end of the covers beneath himself. He rolls over so his ass is towards Gerard, mainly because it’d be way too awkward to sit there and fall asleep facing each other. Frank can’t sleep; it’s hard to with Gerard breathing all heavy on his back just a few inches away. Frank peeks over to see that Gerard’s out cold, his mouth even hanging open a little. Frank stifles a giggle and turns back over, closing his eyes. The mere fact that Gerard is comfortable enough to share a bed with Frank and fall asleep is enough to get Frank to finally doze off.  
Frank wakes up feeling really hot, so he goes to pull off the covers when he realizes that he can’t even move. He looks in the corner of his eye to see Gerard completely wrapped around him, tightly, too. Frank blushes out of secondhand embarrassment and tries to slide out from beneath Gerard, but it’s no use; the older boy has a death grip on Frank. Frank groans as he tries once more to squirm from Gerard’s grasp, but this time, Gerard’s eyes shoot open.  
Frank has to suppress a sigh of relief. He was never much for cuddling in the first place, but pair it with heatstroke, and it goes from slightly annoying to unbearable really fast.  
But the thing is, Gerard doesn’t let go of Frank. He just kind of lies there, blinking slowly. He looks down Frank’s body, then at himself, almost as if he’s processing what exactly is going on. He yawns and closes his eyes once more, and Frank resorts to shoving Gerard off, insisting,  
“I’m fucking sweating like crazy, I need some space.”  
Gerard pouts, asking, “You don’t like to snuggle?”  
Frank’s hard expression softens, and he begins to feel guilty over the doe eyed idiot even though he knows he shouldn’t. Frank sighs and ducks his head, mumbling, “I’m just really warm, that’s all.”  
Gerard nods and crosses his arm, gazing up at the ceiling. “What time is it, Frankie?”  
Frank leans over to the nightstand and grabs his phone, squinting to read the time. “2 p.m.”  
Gerard nods sleepily, and Frank can’t help but wonder how Gerard still manages to be tired right after all that sleep. He doesn’t question it, however, and just gets out of bed, reaching his arms as high as he can to stretch.  
Gerard flops out of bed, stamping clumsily over to his dresser where he grabs a pair of Calvin Kleins, skinny jeans, solid black socks and a cutoff tee. He moves past Frank, calling once he’s out the door,  
“I’m going to shower.”  
Frank groans, because he doesn’t want Gerard to leave him alone. What does Gerard expect Frank to do with himself at another person’s house? Frank supposes he can hang out with Mikey, so he starts up the stairs towards Mikey’s room.  
Frank knows that Mikey’s on the cross country team, which means he’s been up before the hour of six on numerous occasions. He enters his room, surprised to not see him leaned back in his gaming rocker. His eye eventually catches the bed, where Mikey is completely wrapped up in his duvet like some sort of blanket burrito with only his eyes down to his chin peeking out. Frank sighs, and tiptoes his way out so not to wake him.  
As Frank passes through the living room the second time, he sees Mikey’s friend Pete sound asleep on the couch, naked spare a pair of boxer briefs and sunglasses. “So that’s the little shit,” Frank says softly to himself.  
Pete stirs in his sleep, a stray leg almost kicking Frank. Frank moves by carefully and goes back down the stairs to Gerard’s room.  
Frank lies on the bed, just staring up at the ceiling. His mind is on bigger things, for instance, why the fuck Gerard refused to stop cuddling Frank this morning. A big part of Frank is telling him that Gerard obviously has feelings for him, which Frank returns, and that he should go for it. But the smallest little sliver tells him that maybe there is such a thing as platonic snuggling, because no way anyone would ever be dumb enough to fall for Frank.  
He lays there, pondering his situation and feeling remorse for himself and everyone involved. There’s obviously been much more terrible tales of love, but Frank doesn’t care, all he knows is that he cares about Gerard more than he does himself and it fucking hurts.  
Eventually Gerard reappears, hair wet and clinging to his face. He asks, “Frank, do you want us to drive you home?”  
Frank shrugs. “Can I actually hang out here?”  
“Why don’t we hang out at your place,” Gerard suggests. “I really like your mom.”  
“Um…” Frank hesitates. He knows that his mom will only embarrass him, and surely that Gerard and Mikey will get a kick out of it. “Great, let’s go!” Gerard declares, heading out the door. Frank sighs and follows somewhat reluctantly, praying to himself that his mom won’t completely humiliate him.  
Gerard goes upstairs, Frank in tote, only to wake up Mikey, who retaliates by chucking a pillow at Gerard’s head. Gerard manages to duck and dodge it, and adds, “C’mon, we’re going to Frank’s.” Mikey responds by in turn waking up Pete, who only grins sleepily and steps into some clothes.  
They all head outside and pile into Gerard’s car, Frank being forced to share the backseat with Pete since Mikey refuses to give up shotgun.  
Frank sits there, twiddling his thumbs, but Pete keeps trying to strike up a conversation, almost as if he can’t tell that Frank clearly isn’t interested. “So, what’s your favorite class?” Pete questions.  
Frank eyes him, telling flatly, “Art.”  
Pete nods, replying, “I like vocal. I like art too, but I’m just inherently bad at it.”  
Frank can’t hide his smile, and giggles, responding, “Yeah.”  
Gerard pulls into Frank’s driveway, stopping the car suddenly. He turns around in his seat, questioning, “Frankie, what do you want to do once we get inside?”  
Frank shrugs, answering honestly, “I don’t know, I really didn’t want to go here, actually.”  
“We can… watch a movie?” Gerard suggests.  
Mikey groans, “All we do is watch movies.”  
“We can play Monopoly,” Frank mentions. “We have the board game.”  
“Sounds fun!” Pete chirps, hopping out of the car. The rest of the boys follow him up the porch and inside, where Frank’s mom immediately pounces on all four of the boys with tucking in their shirts and pinching their cheeks and fixing their hair. Frank has to practically shove her out of the way just to set up the board game at the kitchen table.  
“Do you boys need snacks?” Frank’s mom asks once they’re all seated.“No I think we’re-” Frank begins.  
“Actually, I’m starving,” Gerard informs. “That’d be awesome, Mrs. Iero.”  
Mikey and Pete nod enthusiastically, so just like that Frank’s mom is whipping up her famous brownies as they’re just starting their game.  
Frank chooses the dog being his animal loving self, Mikey chooses the car, Gerard goes for the top hat, and leave it to Pete to choose the absolute worst piece and play as the fucking thimble, willingly too.  
Frank is glad that his mom isn’t being as potentially embarrassing as she usually is, and he starts to breathe easy just as she remarks,  
“Frankie, who’s your friend playing as the thimble?”  
Pete perks up at being mentioned, and he displays his front row of teeth in a wide smile.  
“That’s Pete,” Frank answers. “He’s Mikey’s friend.”“Well Pete, aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” Frank’s mom gushes. “You know, you remind me of Frankie when he was little.”“Do I really?” Pete questions.  
“Oh, yeah, sure!” Mrs. Iero continues. “You know, big doe eyes, dark hair, all that.”  
“What was Frank like when he was little?” Mikey wonders.  
Frank braces himself as his mom tries to find the words to answer Mikey’s question.  
“Well, Frankie was a very shy little boy, but such a sweet baby. Hardly ever cried.”  
“Mikey screamed his head off for most of my younger years,” Gerard growls, glaring at Mikey, who seems pleased with his infant self.  
“You know, Frank was actually a bit mischievous,” Mrs. Iero continues. “He went through a phase when he was four where he was constantly taking his clothes off-”  
“Mom!” Frank protests.  
“It’s rude to interrupt,” Pete reminds Frank.  
“Tell me more,” Mikey smirks.  
Frank buries his head as his mother proceeds,  
“Well there was one incident where we were grocery shopping and Frank had taken his pants off while we weren’t looking. So imagine that, a little four year old boy walking around the store in his Hello Kitty underwear. He wore girls’ underwear at that time, and his father was livid when I bought some for him, but it was what he liked. I think it was the glitter waistbands that drew him in. Frankie, you still like glitter, don’t you?” Frank’s mom asks, squeezing Frank’s shoulder. “Shoot me in the head,” Frank grumbles.  
Frank’s mom kisses the top of his head, realizing, “Oh, he’s all bashful now. We only pick on you because we love you.”  
Frank rolls his eyes, his face scarlet. “Yeah, that must be it.”  
The stories subside once the brownies are done, and for the next fifteen or twenty minutes, not a second of it is spent without a boy having his mouth full.  
They never do get to finish their game; Pete flips the board when Gerard lands on Free Parking for the fifth time. With that, Mikey wants to go home, and of course Pete tags along. Gerard just says, “Well, walk, because I’m hanging out with Frank.”  
Mikey sticks his tongue out at Gerard, but nonetheless says goodbye to Mrs. Iero before leaving.  
Frank raises an eyebrow, asking, “You want to hang out with me?”  
Gerard smiles, asking, “Where’s your room?”


	8. Chapter 8

 Frank leads Gerard up to his room, dismissing,

“It’s not much, really.”

Gerard wanders around the small space, plucking through some of the tightly packed books on Frank’s shelves. “I like it. It’s very you.”

“What, you mean shitty?” Frank jokes.   
Gerard doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even crack a smile. “Frank, please don’t make jokes about yourself like that.”

“But I’m only kidding,” Frank reasons.

“Well yeah, but it’s just… I know that you kind of mean it, okay?” Gerard responds. “And I don’t like to see you constantly hiding the fact that you’re insecure by making jokes about it.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Frank demands. “I’m insecure and I need attention. Does that mean I’m going to tell anyone that or even imply it? Fuck no!”

Gerard doesn’t say anything for a while. Finally, he tells, “Just because you’re insecure doesn’t excuse you for being unnecessarily hard on yourself about it.”

Frank bows his head, mumbling, “I have to be hard on myself.”

“Why?” Gerard asks.        
Tears start to clog up the back of Frank’s throat, and his next words come out all wavered and tight as he admits, “Because I’m not perfect.”

Gerard sits next to Frank, rubbing his knee through his jeans. He comforts, “You don’t have to be perfect, Frank. You’re great just how you are. You can’t expect that much out of yourself.”

“Why not?” Frank whimpers, tears starting to flow. “I’m a shitty person. I want to be better.”

“How on earth are you a shitty person?” Gerard scoffs.

Frank shrugs, confiding, “I’m jealous, ugly, careless, destructive…” He hides his face in his hands, crying, “I just am, okay? And I don’t want to hear about how I’m not, because I know that it’s not true.”

Gerard is again silent, struggling for what to say to cheer up his friend. “Well, can I list some of your good traits?”  
Frank is quiet, so Gerard proceeds,   
“I know you have flaws, Frank, but there’s good things, too.”

Frank remains still, shaking as he cries softly.   
“Let’s see,” Gerard continues. “You’re funny, thoughtful, likeable, very easy to get along with.”

Frank does nothing, just sits there weeping.

“You know, Frank,” Gerard begins. “I’ve never kissed a boy before.”

“I thought you were bisexual.” Frank’s voice comes out muffled as he talks directly into his hands.

“Well, yeah, but there’s hardly any dick around here that I’m eligible for,” Gerard replies. “You know, all the guys are straight or they have their silly standards.”  
Frank giggles, confessing, “I’ve never kissed a boy either. At least you’ve been with girls. I’m full on gay and I’ve known other gay guys, it’s just that none of them like me.”

“But you want to?” Gerard asks.

“Want to what?”

“You want to kiss a boy?” Gerard reiterates.

“Of course,” Frank answers, turning a bit pink in the cheeks.

“Then say no more,” Gerard declares. He leans forward, lifting Frank’s chin and guiding Frank’s lips towards his own.

Frank turns scarlet as Gerard softly kisses him, at first only on the lips, but then he opens his mouth and nibbles at Frank’s bottom lip, bringing his tongue across its surface. Gerard’s tongue snags on Frank’s lip ring, but he manages to free it. He lowers Frank onto the bed, leaning over Frank.

Frank pulls away, telling, “You know, I really appreciate this, but it’s just that I’ve been crying and I’m really gross right now.”

Gerard shakes his head, running a hand through Frank’s black hair. “Oh Frank, you’re not gross. Ever, okay?” He kisses Frank once more, and this time when he drags his tongue across Frank’s bottom lip, the younger boy gives in, opening his mouth for Gerard, who immediately slides his tongue in.

Frank eases more and more into the kiss, and soon, Frank is fucking putty in Gerard’s hands. Gerard strokes Frank’s inner thing, the denim of Frank’s jeans rough against his hand. But he doesn’t mind; it’s intimate, and it’s with Frank, so the make out session is good enough for him.

It’s not until Gerard’s hand wanders up the front of Frank’s shirt that Frank stops, grabbing Gerard’s hand and pulling it out from underneath Frank’s shirt. Gerard looks hurt, so Frank explains,

“I’m just not ready for that stuff yet, okay? Remember, I’m only fourteen.”

“Right, right. My bad,” Gerard responds, lifting himself off Frank and sitting again. Frank lies on his back, and after a while, Gerard asks,

“So was it good?”

“Was what good?”

Gerard giggles and playfully shoves at Frank’s shoulder. “The kiss, silly!”

“Oh! Yeah!” Frank replies, blushing once more. “it was amazing Gerard, really.”

“I am a pretty good kisser, so I hear,” Gerard brags.

Frank chuckles, agreeing, “Well, now you’ve got someone to back you up on that.”

Gerard leans back, propping his head up with his palm. “Frank?”

“Mm-hm?” Frank responds, running his hand up and down his bed sheets absently.  
“You…. You wanted your first kiss to be with a boy, right?” Gerard questions.  
Frank laughs, “Ideally, yes, seeing as I’m gay.”

“Are you… would you be…” Gerard takes a deep breath, proceeding, “Would you want to go out with me?”

Frank sits up, repeating, “Go out with you?”

“Yeah,” Gerard answers.

“Like, what does that involve?” Frank inquires cautiously.

It’s Gerard’s turn to laugh, but he answers Frank despite this, replying, “Well, we’d go on dates. We’d make out. Hang out more often in general, and hopefully… someday… get married.”

Frank perks up, and a cheeky smile plays at his lips. “I think I like this whole going out thing.”

“Oh and you can also send me nudes but that’s totally up to you,” Gerard murmurs.   
Frank giggles, hugging Gerard and kissing his cheek as he squeezes him. Gerard ruffles Frank’s hair, giving him a peck on top of the head. They lay back and talk for the rest of the day, not making out, not watching or playing anything, but just generally appreciating each other and their company. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon.


	9. Chapter 9

  
Gerard returns home around 11:00, and he knows he probably should’ve left Frank’s earlier, but sometimes they just get so wrapped up in each other that keeping track of the time is out of the question.

He gets home, hanging around in his bedroom and watching some Friends reruns when his phone buzzes. He automatically assumes that it’s from Mikey, and waits for a while to open it (like really, when has anything out of Mikey’s mouth ever been fascinating?). It’s not until fifteen or twenty minutes that he finally checks his phone to see a text from Frank. Opening the message, he sees that, wow…. Frank sent him some nudes.

They’re not total nudes; Frank is covered by his Marvel boxer briefs in them (except for one in which he’s wearing pink panties soaked in pre cum), but it’s still enough to get Gerard super hard mega fast. He rushes upstairs before someone sees the tent in his pants, and once he’s in his room and the door is locked, his phone containing Frank’s pictures tight in his hand, he’s fucking laughing with relief. Gerard figures he’ll text Frank, and types quickly:

“Frankie those photos were pretty hot, not gonna lie.”

Frank responds almost embarrassingly fast with a lot of emoji’s and exclamation points, because that’s just how Frank texts. He sends some hearts along with blushing smiley faces and a “thank you babe.”

Gerard’s smile is still glued to his face, and he decides that tomorrow, he’ll surprise Frank and send him some pictures of his own.  

The next day at school is a long one. Gerard’s sick, so Frank finds himself having to physically force himself through each period. Usually; he sees Gerard at lunch, and that’s really the only person he sits with (Mikey eats a different period). But today, Frank is forced to sit alone, and just like that, he’s back to square one.

The two boys that had targeted him on his first day take note of the fact that Frank’s alone and head over. Frank tenses up in his chair, and considers running to one of the teachers patrolling the lunch room for any horseplay. Unfortunately, that’s not an option anymore as the boys are sitting down, the taller one making himself comfortable in what is usually Gerard’s seat.

“Can I help you?” Frank grumbles.

“Yes, actually. Where’s Speed Stick?” the taller boy asks.

Frank knits his brows. “Speed Stick?”

“You know, the faggot you’re so in love with. Dumb hair, smells like shit all the time?” the other elaborates.

Frank rolls his eyes, realizing they’re talking about Gerard. “He’s sick.”

“What STD did you give him this time, Iero?” one smirks.

Frank starts to blush, and he thinks that he’s doing a good job of hiding it when the other boy chuckles,

“Oh, he’s going all red! That means it’s true!”

“Shut up,” Frank growls. “Just leave me alone.”

“But Frank, this is so much more fun,” the bigger boy pouts. “So, personal question, are you top or bottom when you and Gerard fuck?”

“Dude, we’ve only kissed!” Frank snaps.

“You fags kissed?” one scoffs. “Wow, we were just kidding Iero, but I guess whatever floats your boat.”

“Even if it’s greasy smelly queers,” the other adds.

“Seriously, I don’t want to hear it! Fuck both you guys, alright?” Frank barks.

One of the teachers on lunch duty glances over, so Frank does his best to look like he’s not extremely pissed off when he totally is.

“You’re fucking dead Iero, you got it?” one threatens. “We’ll be seeing your ass after school.”

Frank holds his steady glare, replying icily, “Can’t wait to see you.”

Frank knows he’s going to get his ass pounded, but throughout the less of his classes, he finds that he couldn’t care less. He sees the conversation between those boys as a personal victory for one crucial reason, and that is that for the first time in forever, he stood up for himself. Sure, it took some stabs at Gerard as well to make him protest, but he’s nonetheless proud of himself.

He considers getting a ride with Mikey, so he asks him in art,

“Hey, Mikes, do you think I can catch a ride home with you?”

Mikey shakes his head. “Nah man, I don’t drive. I’m walking.”

“Oh, okay,” Frank mumbles.

“If you want to walk with me, that’d be cool,” Mikey offers.  
“No, no; that’s okay,” Frank insists. The last thing he wants is for Mikey to get his ass kicked as well. “I’ll be fine.”

Of course, Frank knows he’s not coming out in once piece when he exits the school building. He hasn’t even gone a block when he feels the two boys tailing him, but he plays along, continuing to walk and sweating more and more as they get closer and closer. Finally, he’s tackled harshly, and his stomach and jaw both hit the pavement hard.

It’s not until he starts to get kicked in the sides that he realizes he’s already bleeding; the blood dripping from the underside of his chin. Frank covers his head with his arms, curling into a fetal position as he’s repeatedly kicked. His backpack is torn away, and he can hear one of the boys rifling through it as the other continues to drill his foot into Frank’s ribcage.

Frank starts to feel nauseous after about a minute’s worth of being kicked, so he rolls over onto his back, tossing his head back.

The boy takes advantage of this, grabbing Frank by the collar and punching him in the nose. He then grips his collar with both hands and head butts Frank, and that’s when everything starts to go fuzzy.

Frank’s crying as his nose gushes blood, and he tries to crawl away, only to be dragged back by his ankles, his shirt riding up and the cement scraping his stomach. The boys dump his backpack out on top of him and give him a few more kicks before storming off, seeming satisfied with their work.

Frank scrapes all his mangled possessions together, dumping them back into his backpack. He stumbles home, and he’s not really concerned until he realizes two things, one being that he can’t see out of his left eye or even open it, and the other being the amount of blood dried onto his face and shirt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!
> 
> My Tumblr: www.waydown.co.vu


	10. Chapter 10

Frank manages to make his way home, and luckily, his mom isn’t there, because he knows that she’d pitch a fit at Frank’s current state.

He takes a shower, not using soap because just the splash of water on his wounds hurts enough; no need to add any dyes or perfumes to it.

He steps out, noticing that his left eye has now bruised over and his nose isn’t in as bad of a shape as he’d thought. He dresses his wounds, dumping peroxide onto each one even though it makes him have to bite a towel so the neighbors won’t hear him squealing in pain.

Finally, he strips to his underwear and shirt and curls up in bed, exhausted. He hasn’t been beaten up since seventh grade, and since then, he’s forgotten how much it takes out of you.

He glances at his phone and sees a message from Gerard. He grabs it instantly, checking his texts to see Gerard’s. It reads:

‘Do you want to come over? I look pretty gross tbh but we can hang out with lots of blankets and soup and cuddle.’

Frank knows that Gerard will be furious when he sees Frank’s battered face and body, not at Frank of course, but at those boys. He figures that he may as well go over though; he can’t turn down snuggling when he feels so tired and shitty.

He walks the three blocks, limping slightly the entire way. Their kicks struck his ankle real good a couple of times, and he figures it’s sprained by how tight it is.

 He shows up at the door, ringing the bell. Mikey is the one to answer, and he simply furrows his brows, asking slowly,   
“Frank, what happened?”  
Frank shrugs, kicking a stray pebble passively. “I just… these kids really don’t like me.”

“Why  not?” Mikey questions.   
Frank shakes his head, answering, “I dunno. Maybe they know I’m gay…” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, continuing, “Is Gerard here?”

“Yeah, down in his room,” Mikey replies, stepping out of Frank’s way to allow him inside. “Do you want an ice pack or something for your eye?”

“No, that’s okay,” Frank insists, moving past Mikey. He goes down the stairs gradually, wondering if it’s an option to completely obscure his face.

“Frank!” Gerard greets from his bed. He’s completely wrapped up in blankets like a cocoon, only his tiny nose and doe eyes visible through the mess of cloth. Frank steps over, his head ducked, hands in his pockets.

“Sit down,” Gerard encourages, scooching over for him. He tears his eyes away from the movie playing (he was watching it intently even though he’s seen Full Metal Jacket at least twelve times) and looks at Frank. Immediately, he frowns, and he asks,

“What… what happened?”

Frank gazes down guiltily, telling, “Some kids from school beat me up.”

Gerard whips his blanket, off, standing abruptly. His hand then goes to his forehead, and he sits back down, cringing from whatever pain he’s in.

“Headache?” Frank questions, taking one of Gerard’s hands.

Gerard squeezes Frank’s hand as if it’s all he’s got, and he nods, but manages to ask,

“Who was it?”

“I don’t want you to know,” Frank admits.

“Why not?” Gerard wheezes, rubbing his sore temples.

“Because,” Frank replies. “I don’t want you fighting anyone for me, ever, but especially not when you’re sick!”

“I’m fine!” Gerard insists. He coughs violently, hacking almost.

“You’re obviously not,” Frank responds. He pushes Gerard’s shoulders down to the mattress, wrapping his blanket back around him. “Just please, lay down, and get some rest. It’s no use getting all riled up over me.”  
Gerard opens his mouth, surely ready to give a snappy comeback. But he pauses, and just flicks his eyes to the TV screen, back to Frank, and then once more on the TV, where they stay fixed.

It’s not for a while before Gerard speaks again, and even when he does talk, it’s hesitantly so.

“Frank?”

Franks sighs, “Yes?”

“Why’d they beat you up?” Gerard asks.

Frank shrugs, mumbling, “They came to me at lunch, and I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“You know,  you can’t always blame yourself,” Gerard reasons. “I know, it’s an easy thing to do, but you have to try to stop it.”

“It’s not called blaming when it’s actually my fault,” Frank retorts.

Gerard shakes his head. “I know you Frank. I know that you said nothing that those boys don’t have coming to them.”

Frank doesn’t have a response for that, so he opts to stay quiet. He finally pleads, “Can you just please not face them? There’s two of them, and I’d hate to see you hurt.”

Gerard considers this, and nods. “Yeah, I won’t.” He stays quiet for a moment, but then adds, “But if I so happen to run into them, I’ll have some choice words.”

“Please, please, no choice words, no threats, none of that, alright?” Frank begs. “They’re bad news, Gerard, I’m serious.” He squeezes Gerard’s thigh, assuring, “I just want to keep you safe.”

“I don’t need to be kept an eye on, you know,” Gerard grumbles. “I’m fucking seventeen years old.”

“Yes, but so are they,” Frank answers. “And there’s two of them. And one of you.”

Gerard pouts, and murmurs, “You think I can handle seeing you like this?”

“Look,” Frank begins. “As long as I watch my mouth around them, they shouldn’t do this again.”

“But what if they do?” Gerard asks.

“They mostly did it because they knew you were gone,” Frank realizes. “I think they’re scared of you.”

“Good, they should be,” Gerard smirks.

Frank giggles, and replies, “I’d just like to remind you that you’re wearing Hello Kitty pajama bottoms as we speak.”

Gerard frowns, and peeks beneath the blanket, murmuring, “Shit, you’re right.”

 Frank laughs, and hugs Gerard, pecking at his cheek. “I really miss having you at school. Get your ass healed.”

“Send me to the vet,” Gerard moans dramatically, tossing his head back. He blinks, then admits, “That’s a lie, I should be better by tomorrow.”

Frank chuckles, “Good, because I can’t do this without you.”

Gerard shakes his head, promising, “You can do anything, Frank. I promise, you are so much more special than you think you are.”

“I’m really not,” Frank mumbles. “Trust me.”

Gerard knits his brows, and pulls Frank down to a laying position, cuddling with him.                         


	11. Chapter 11

Gerard actually does manage to lay off Frank’s tormentors, and they do the same; keeping a careful distance from Frank whenever they see that Gerard is with him, which is practically fucking all the time.

The duo is pleasantly surprised at lunch to see Pete join them. He strides over like it’s no big deal, tossing his backpack onto the table like he owns the place.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hi Pete,” Frank responds chirpily.

“Hey, nerd,” Gerard tells flatly. He likes to give a lot of people shit, but mostly Pete, and that’s because he takes it so well. “You know your parents don’t love you, right?”

Pete’s face stays stoic as ever, and he nods, replying, “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

“What are you up to?” Frank asks, taking a bite of his sandwich. He recoils only slightly; the school lunches are getting tastier.

“Um, nothing really,” Pete tells. “I got a um…” He unzips the front pouch of his book bag, pulling out a brown paper sack. His eyes shift side to side, and he leans over the table, dropping his voice to a whisper as he informs merrily, “I have a bag of weed.”

Gerard’s eyes widen, and he questions, “You’ve never smoked pot before?”

Pete shakes his head, stuffing the bag back into the pocket. “I’m really excited. Want to share it?”

Gerard shakes his head, replying, “Man, I quit that stuff in like 8th grade.”

“Well, just who am I supposed to smoke it with?” Pete demands. “Mikey doesn’t smoke, Patrick won’t even look at the weed, Frank’s got shit lungs-”

Frank clears his throat, answering, “I’ll try some.”

Pete furrows his brows, his permanent grin morphing into a frown. “I thought you can’t.”

“Well I can, it’s just…” Frank takes a long sigh. “It probably won’t be the most enjoyable or easy.”

“Then why do it?” Gerard reasons.   
Frank shrugs. “Why not? I’ve never smoked anything in my life, and I don’t want to die without knowing what that feels like.”

“You want to know how it feels? Scream for 2 hours. That’s how it feels,” Gerard replies.

Frank rolls his eyes, murmuring, “I can do it if I want.”

“I know, just be careful, okay? Don’t push yourself too far,” Gerard advises. “The first time my friend Bob smoked weed, he tried to count every hair on his body. Lost count at four. Good guy, Bob was.”

Frank giggles, “I’m sure.”

“Are you excited?” Pete asks, nudging Frank.

“For sure!” Frank squeaks. “When are we smoking it?”

“Not tonight; I’ve got a math quiz tomorrow,” Pete explains. “But Thursday night, we’re set to go.”

“In Gerard’s room?” Frank asks.

“I don’t want my room smelling like a middle school locker!” Gerard protests.

“In Gerard’s room,” Pete agrees.

Gerard whips his hair off his head in a mock huff, crossing his arms. “Fine, you fucking stoners.”

Frank pecks Gerard on the cheek, and Pete tells, “Whoa whoa, no one told me you two were dating.”

Frank smiles sheepishly, admitting, “Well, no one really knows. Not even Mikey.”

“Why not?” Pete asks.

“Ummm,” Gerard stalls, looking for an excuse.

“My dad is like, way homophobic,” Frank cuts in. “He’d kill me, y’know.”

Pete nods, and points out, “You can’t hide it forever, though.”

“We know,” Frank responds, despite the fact that the two have never even considered telling anyone.

“Can you not tell Mikey?” Gerard pleads. “I just don’t want the word to get out.”

“Okay,” Pete agrees. “But you have to promise me that you’ll tell Frank’s dad eventually. Homophobic or not, the man deserves to know what’s going on in his son’s life.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Gerard murmurs, although in the back of his mind he’s contemplating if Frank’s dad really has earned his son’s honesty or affection; after all, he won’t even accept him for who he is.

Gerard and Frank are hanging out later that night, and Frank begs,

‘Please don’t make me tell my dad.”

“Let’s be reasonable, what’s the worst that could happen?” Gerard retorts.

Frank opens his mouth to speak, but the words don’t quite make it out, and he sits there, eyes growing wet and his mouth gaping. “I really didn’t want to tell you about this.”

“About what?” Gerard asks.

“When… when I was little,” Frank begins. He laces his own fingers together, twiddling with his thumbs as he continues, “There was a boy I liked. I was six or seven years old, and already I knew that I liked boys.”

“So, already, my dad’s all, ‘Say, Frankie, got your eye on any cute girls?’ And I’m dumb enough to be upfront with him and answer something along the lines of, ‘Actually, there’s a boy named Joey.’

“And we were driving, and my dad pulls the whole car right over. My mom wasn’t there to defend me, so he just fucking went ballistic. He didn’t hit me, not once, but he was wringing my neck and grabbing me by the collar and hollering, and I was crying my eyes out the entire time. Finally, he does take me over his knee and spank me, and he makes me promise not to say anything like that ever again. I’m so hurt and scared that I agree to it automatically, and he holds me to that fucking promise.”

“Every now and then, he’ll just give me this real smug look. His eyebrows will raise slightly, and the corners of his lips will upturn in a small, subtle smile. And I fucking hate him so much, but he doesn’t care, because he knows I’m his.”

“Frank, that’s not true.”

“It is!” Frank insists. “I sear, all I am is fucking property to that guy. He parades me around to make himself look good, and as soon as he doesn’t need me, he goes back to treating me like shit.”

“Frank, I’m really sorry,” Gerard mutters. “I… I don’t know how to help.”

“You can help not telling him,” Frank counters.

Gerard nods, mostly to make Frank feel better. He wraps his boyfriend in a tight hug, kissing the top of his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!


	12. Chapter 12

Gerard knows that he can’t just hide their relationship forever. At the same time, he doesn’t want Frank’s dad to give him hell just for being who he is.  
He strings his hands in his hair, contemplating the situation. Either way he’s screwed. Hiding relationships almost always winds up in a breakup, but so would having Frank’s dad beat the shit out of him.

  
He’s troubled for the next day at school; he hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before. Actually, he never does, but last night, he got even less.

  
Frank can tell something’s bothering his boyfriend, and he considers for a moment if he should even bother to ask what. Of course he’d like to know, but he just doubts that he’ll be able to get a straight answer out of Gerard, who’s currently gazing out at nothing.

  
“Gerard?” Frank asks.

  
Gerard doesn’t answer, just holds his stare.

  
“Um, do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Frank questions.

  
Gerard stays, not blinking at all.

  
Frank places a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, and the older boy jumps about a foot. His eyes flash over to meet Frank’s, asking,

  
“What, what is it?”

  
“You okay?” Frank chuckles. “You’re acting really weird.”

  
“Well…” Gerard murmurs, picking at his nails distractedly. “I just… I don’t want to hide us… anymore.”

  
“Hide us?” Frank repeats.

  
“You know, kind of completely omit the vital fact that we’re dating to everyone,” Gerard mumbles.

  
“What?”

  
Gerard sighs, telling louder, “I don’t like being hidden, Frank. I wish… I wish you could just be proud of us.”

  
“Of course I am,” Frank responds.

  
“Then why won’t you act like it?”

  
Frank runs a hand through his locks, gripping the ends of his hair. “I just…. I really don’t feel like getting chewed out by my dad, alright? I mean, he fucking was brutal last time, and I was little.” His eyes shift form Gerard to the floor as he continues softly, “I can only imagine what he’d do to me now.”

  
Gerard is silent, and then, offers, “Do you want me to tell him?”

  
Frank knits his brows, positive that he misheard Gerard. “What?”

  
“I can tell your dad you’re gay, and then tell him you’re dating me,” Gerard reiterates. “That way, he’ll take it out on me, not you.”

  
“No, no…” Frank hesitates. “I don’t want to put you through that.”

  
Gerard frowns, reasoning, “Then just what are we supposed to do? Word will get out anyways. It’s a small town, Frank.”

  
“I know,” Frank grumbles. He buries his head into his hands, and Gerard assumes that’s the end of the conversation.

  
“Why don’t we both tell him?” Frank suggests quietly. “That way, it’s two against one. And, I guess that’d be most fair.”

  
Gerard laces his fingers with Frank, squeezing his hand. “Is after school today alright?”

  
Frank nods, adding, “And I’ll make sure my mom’s there, too, just in case my dad gets out of control.”

  
“He won’t, will he?” Gerard worries.

  
Frank shakes his head. “Not with my mom there, no.”

  
Gerard’s still feeling anxious throughout the rest of the day, despite the fact that Frank had assured that his father doesn’t have the balls to do hardly anything with his mother in the room.

  
Gerard drives them over, and he remembers how the first time he’d been at Frank’s house, it had a nice, homey feel to it. It was a safe place, a haven, if you will. But now, as they walk up the porch steps, Frank’s hand casually in Gerard’s back pocket, it gives off a portentous vibe that unsettles Gerard.

  
Frank brings his hand back to his own pocket, opening the door with the other. “Hello?”

  
“Frank!” Frank’s mother coos. She rushes over, wiping her hands off on her apron before hugging her son. She hugs Gerard, too, who just sort of blushes and pats her back.

  
“Come into the kitchen; I’m sure your father would love to meet Gerard,” Frank’s mom gushes.

  
Gerard’s eyes widen, and he glances over to Frank for support, to see the boy already looking at him, his huge amber eyes having a calming effect on him.  
Gerard takes a deep breath and follows Frank’s mom into the kitchen, where his dad is sat.

  
His dad seems like the All American father that ‘loves his family’’ but can hardly keep their birthdays straight. Gerard can conclude from his pressed button up and tie that he’s a pencil pusher, and for a split second, Gerard can see why he apparently hates everything.

  
He’s got dark hair like Frank, but when he gazes up from his newspaper, Gerard can see that he has blue eyes instead of Frank’s golden brown.

  
“Dad, this is Gerard,” Frank introduces.

  
“Hmm, Gerard, eh?” Frank’s dad asks, folding his Sports section.

  
“Yep,” Gerard answers, nodding slightly.

  
“You do any sports, Gerard?” Frank’s father questions. He’s trying to make small talk at one of the few things he knows, but it comes off as more of a demand than a curiosity.

  
Gerard shakes his head, replying, “I do art, vocal and theatre, though.”

  
Frank’s dad does a bad job of suppressing a condescending snort. Frank’s mother shoots him a death glare, and she pats Gerard’s shoulder, complimenting,

  
“I always think it’s nice for boys to explore whatever interests they want. I wish Frankie were into theatre.”

  
Frank’s dad can’t hold his tongue for that comment, and he protests, “Frank being in art is bad enough, now you want him to do theatre?”

  
“What’s wrong with theatre, Dad?” Frank challenges calmly.

  
“It’s for girls,” Mr. Iero mutters. “I’ll have no son of mine being a fine arts faggot.”

  
Gerard’s fists clench, and he squeezes them until his knuckles go white, mostly to keep him from punching the old man on the spot.

  
“Oh, you don’t mean that,” Frank’s mother scolds.

  
Frank’s dad actually puts down his newspaper to shoot a glare at his wife, telling lowly, “I do mean that.”

  
“Well, guess what,” Frank begins shakily. “I’m gay, Dad.”

  
Frank’s dad stands, demanding, “What did you say?”

  
“You heard me,” Frank retorts, his voice small.

  
“Frank… go to your room,” Mr. Iero tells coldly.

  
Frank’s mother goes to his father’s side, advising in a low voice, “Honey, don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”

  
“Go to your room,” his father repeats.

  
Frank doesn’t move, but stands there in awe.

  
“NOW!” Mr. Iero roars, sending Frank fleeing up the steps.

  
Gerard stands there uncomfortably, and goes to follow Frank, only to be yelled at by Frank’s father, who shouts,

  
“You think I’m stupid enough to leave you two fags together? Stay away from my son!”

  
Gerard stumbles out the door, and is soon met by Frank’s mother, who hugs Gerard, whispering, “I’m so sorry about everything, sweetie. I’ll see if I can talk him down. Why don’t you just go home for now? You’ll see Frank at school tomorrow.”

  
Gerard’s devastated. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and he wants to tell her that, because she’s the ultimate mom, which means she can fix it, right?

  
But all that comes out is, “Okay.”


	13. Chapter 13

Gerard is anxious all night; he can only imagine what’s going on at the Iero household. He doesn’t want his thoughts to get the best of him, so he decides to call Frank. The line rings and rings, and finally, he hears Frank’s voicemail.

  
“Hi, this is Frank. I probably lost my phone, but I’ll call you back when I can, alright?”

  
Gerard hangs up, more nervous than he was before he’d made the call. He can’t sleep that night; no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t settle down. His worries eat at him until he falls asleep, exhausted, at three a.m.

  
The next morning, he doesn’t see Frank until lunch. Even then, he has to hunt the boy down, spotting him across the room and following him upstairs.

  
Frank’s at his locker, grabbing some books. Gerard sneaks up next to him, telling,

  
“Hey, you alright?”

  
Frank jumps, clutching a hand to his chest. He pushes his locker door shut with his hip, remarking,

  
“You scared the shit out of me.”

  
“Sorry,” Gerard mumbles. “But what happened after I left? Are you okay?”

  
Frank shifts uncomfortably, fumbling with one of his books. “Well, my dad sorta got real angry. And he was yelling at me and threatening me, and so my mom…”  
Frank sighs, finishing, “She kicked him out. Told him to go, and I quote, ‘To his sister’s house, to a motel, to fucking Jupiter as far as I care.’ And so, I… I don’t think he’s coming back.”

  
“Wow,” Gerard murmurs. “Frank, I’m really sorry.”

  
Frank shrugs, muttering, “It’s okay, I guess. He was a dick anyways.”

  
“Do you think I can come over to your house after school?” Gerard asks. “Or at my house, if you want. I don’t care.”

  
“Can you just come?” Frank pleads. “I like Mikey and Pete, it’s just…” Frank lets out a shuddering breath before continuing, “I don’t really want to be around people right now.”

  
“Fair enough,” Gerard replies. “Are you coming to lunch?”

  
“Actually, I’m having some stomach problems,” Frank confides. “I think I’ll just go to the nurse.”

  
“Okay,” Gerard responds, patting his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’ll see you right after school, okay? I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  
“Sounds good,” Frank agrees. He offers a strained smile before slouching down the hall to the nurse’s office.

  
Gerard is even more antsy to get over to Frank’s house after school; he can tell that he hadn’t gotten the whole story from him earlier.

  
He’s at his locker at the end of the day, grabbing some of his books when this boy named Caleb appears over his shoulder, greeting maliciously,

  
“Hey, Gerard.”

  
“What do you want?” Gerard asks, shrugging his backpack onto his shoulders.

  
He pins Gerard up against the locker, growling, “I’m doing a favor for a friend here.”

  
“Let me go!” Gerard cries, squirming uselessly. Caleb’s knee is tight in his back, and his hands gripped onto his shoulders. “I have to be somewhere!”

  
“You’re already late,” Caleb replies. He reaches a hand down the back of Gerard’s pants and grabs onto a bunch of his boxers.

  
“Quit!” Gerard squeaks, writhing wildly. His underwear is pulled up his ass, and as his heels are lifted off the ground and he’s in total pain, all he can think about is the possibility of his underpants tearing.

  
“Gerard, cute football undies!” Caleb jeers, yanking harder.

  
Gerard dips his head into the locker, blushing at the fact that today just had to be the day that he wore his green boxers with the little footballs all over them.

  
“Is that Way?” a voice demands.

  
“Yeah, why?” Caleb asks, loosening his hold.

  
“Hold him,” the voice orders, coming closer.

  
Gerard usually has no problem dealing with bullies; they’re actually often afraid of him. But this time, he’s not sure if he’s in the right; Caleb had said that he’s ‘doing a favor for a friend’. Gerard wonders who he’d pissed off to deserve this.

  
Gerard’s flipped like a pancake so his back’s to the locker, and the other kid, who Gerard recognizes as (HOLY SHIT) Michelle’s boyfriend, grabs Gerard by a handful of hair. You know, the Michelle he slept with so she could get back at said boyfriend?

  
“Who the fuck do you think you are, freak?”

  
“I…. I…” Gerard stammers.

  
“Michelle told me you’re her boy toy,” the boyfriend, who Gerard believes is named Shaun, informs. “I’m going to kick your scrawny fucking ass.”

  
Gerard gulps, and pleads, “I have to be somewhere, okay? Just let me go.”

  
Shaun laughs, and not even just a chuckle, but a guffaw. “Why would I do that? You must be really retarded, Way.”

  
Gerard cringes at the use of the r-word, but something tells him that Shaun won’t take being corrected lightly. “Please, I have to see my boyfriend.”

  
“Boyfriend?” Caleb snorts. “Wow, I didn’t know you were a faggot.”

  
Another shudder induced by blatant ignorance, but Gerard manages to ignore it and beg,

  
“Just please let me see him. I’m worried.”

  
“I’ll give you something to worry about,” Shaun snarls, pulling Gerard into a headlock. He knees him in the gut several times before throwing him to the floor. Shaun grabs onto the back of Gerard’s bunched up underwear and drags him by it, causing him to squeal. He kicks him in the ribs a few times, and once in the jaw, before finally kneeling down, warning icily,

  
“Stay away from Michelle.”

  
Gerard nods, feeling drowsy from his injuries. He manages to keep his eyes open all the way to Frank’s house, where he finally collapses once inside.


	14. Chapter 14

Frank is the one to help Gerard to his feet, who manages to mumble a “thank you”.

“What happened?” Frank asks, helping Gerard to the bathroom. He sits Gerard up on the sink and places a hand beneath Gerard’s jaw, propping his head up for inspection. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Gerard insists, adding, “I just got kicked and kneed some.”

Frank pulls Gerard’s shirt off and examines some of the bruises forming around his ribs and stomach. “Gerard, these don’t look good.”  
“Hey, you should see the other guy,” Gerard jokes half-heartedly.

Frank clicks his tongue, his brows furrowed. “Who did this?”

“Remember Michelle?” Gerard responds.

“Um, kind of,” Frank answers honestly. “Why, what does she have to do with it?”

“Her boyfriend did this,” Gerard explains. “Because I slept with her at that party.”

Frank frowns and scoops Gerard up, putting him over his shoulder. Frank spanks his backside playfully, but Gerard only winces.

“What?”

“I’m sore there,” Gerard replies.

Frank raises an eyebrow, so Gerard quickly adds,

“They… um… they gave me a wedgie too, so…”

“Aw, did they rip your football ones?” Frank asks, rolling down the waistband of Gerard’s pants to see if his underwear is ruined or not.

“Don’t think so,” Gerard mutters, blushing. He pulls his pants up just as he’s being laid on Frank’s bed. Frank curls up next to him, turning on the TV.

Frank surfs through the channels, occasionally lingering on a program for a few moments before changing it again. Gerard gazes over at him, looks into his almost reflective hazel eyes. “Frank?”

“Mmm?” Frank replies, his eyes not leaving the TV screen.

“I really want to keep you safe, okay?” Gerard says.

The words are out of his mouth before his brain can even process them. He second guesses himself, wondering where on earth that statement came from.

Frank doesn’t question it, just replies, “Well, first you have to protect yourself.”

“Right,” Gerard mumbles.

“This can’t happen again, alright?” Frank tells. “I can’t risk you being hurt. I don’t know what’d I do. Please just be careful, okay? I’m… I’m not really sure how to help.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard assures. “I’ll do my best.”

“Are you okay, though?” Frank asks. “I mean, it’s been a while since someone’s beaten the snot out of me, but personally, it messed with me real bad.”

“I guess I’m fine,” Gerard decides. He continues, “I’m actually more worried about you, Frank. You were acting really weird.”

Frank fumbles with his phone, sliding it open and closed repeatedly. “Well I was just kind of anxious because, you know, my dad has been texting me like crazy, trying to get in contact with me.” He rolls his eyes slightly, proceeding, “He’s giving me the whole guilt trip.” Frank tosses his phone across the bed, sending it sailing onto a pillow. “Cry me a river.”

Gerard doesn’t really know what to say, so he silently wraps his arms around Frank in an attempt to comfort him. “Your dad’s an asshole.”

“I know,” Frank mumbles. He nuzzles into Gerard’s chest, letting out a sigh.

“Do you want a blow job?” Gerard asks.

Frank’s eyes widen, and he regretfully declines. “No; I’m not in the mood right now.”

Gerard pecks his boyfriend’s cheek, rubbing his shoulder. “Okay.”

Frank’s frown stays indelible on his face. “I hate a lot of the kids in my grade.”

“What makes you say that?” Gerard asks.

Frank buries his face into Gerard’s shoulder, murmuring, “Getting called a twink gets old really quickly.”

Gerard doesn’t want to hear about the severity of Frank’s bullying. He knows that it’s probably much worse than he’ll let on; he can only imagine what those kids are doing to him. He opts to change the subject, asking, “Do you think word got out about us dating?”

Frank shrugs. “Maybe. I dunno, honestly.”

“Should we tell people we’re dating?” Gerard questions. “I mean, we don’t have to worry about your dad anymore.”

Frank sighs, admitting, “I’m just worried how kids at our school will react. I don’t really feel like getting my ass kicked.”

“Me neither; I’ve had my fair share of it today,” Gerard agrees. “Should we at least tell Mikey?”

“Sure,” Frank decides. “Just don’t let him run around flapping his mouth.”

Gerard chuckles. “Yeah, no problem.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and fumbles with the touchpad. “Do you want me to text him or tell him in person?”

Frank shrugs, weighing his options. “I guess I can text him.” He brings out his own phone, sliding out the keyboard and chicken pecking ‘Hey, Mikes. I would tell you in person but I’m lazy. Gerard and I are dating. Please don’t tell anyone; you know how kids at our school are. P.S. Pete already knows.’

They sit there in silence, Frank anticipating Mikey’s response. Finally, his phone gives a hearty buzz. Frank checks his messages, a grin spreading slowly across his face.

‘Well I knew you were gay and figured Gerard was at least bi or some shit. Congrats.’

Frank shows the message to Gerard, who laughs aloud. “That damn kid.”

“So, we’re keeping this under wraps?” Frank questions. “Just to prevent ass kickings?”

Gerard nods, complying, “Yeah. I wish we didn’t have to, but it’s really our only option at this point.”

Frank nods, curling up even further into Gerard’s stomach. He lets out a sigh, admitting, “Most of the time, I wish I just liked girls.”

“Why?” Gerard asks. He strokes a hand absently up and down Frank’s thigh, occasionally bringing his thumb across the denim.

Frank buries his face into the front of Gerard’s shirt, groaning, “It’d just make things so much easier.”

“Maybe your life wasn’t meant to be easy,” Gerard responds. “Sometimes you have to go down in flames to rise up a phoenix.”

Frank considers this briefly, but pouts nonetheless.  

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Gerard declares. “We’re having a party this Friday. That’ll snap you right out of it.”

Frank doubts it, but he doesn’t want to bring Gerard down, so he just smiles and nods. Frank eventually falls asleep, his head in Gerard’s lap. 


	15. Chapter 15

As the week progresses Frank doesn’t find himself at all looking forward to the party. In fact, he almost comes to dread it, unable to bear the thought of Michelle’s boyfriend attending and running into Gerard.

        Frank even asks around at school, questioning everyone from Pete to Barry, a boy in his Spanish class. Barry just mutters something about being unsure, and Pete just grins, telling Frank how excited he is and reminding him that he has a hearty bag of marijuana to ‘toke’. Frank doesn’t know what ‘toke’ means, but he doubts it has anything to do with whether that dickhead is going to the party tonight.

        Gerard drives Frank home from school, driving to his own house where they can hang out until the party starts.

        As a last resort, Frank sighs, “Do you think Michelle’s boyfriend is coming?”

        Gerard hardly seems surprised; he merely raises a brow and adjusts his mirror. “Um, I really don’t know. I know he’s not the brightest, but I don’t think he’s stupid enough to go to my party.”

        “I’m just worried he won’t care,” Frank mumbles.

        Gerard arrives at his house, sitting for a moment, still buckled in. Finally, he unstraps himself, tapping Frank’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

        “No, I’m really worried,” Frank admits. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

        “Look, I’ll stay away from Michelle, okay?” Gerard bargains. “I wasn’t planning on talking to her anyways, but I’ll make a point out of avoiding her.” He cocks his head, trying to meet Frank’s distant eyes. He sets a hand on Frank’s knee, tracing the cap of the joint. “I don’t want to upset you.”

        “Then call off the party,” Frank pleads.

        “I can’t-”

        “Yes, just please, only until things tone down,” Frank begs. “You can have a party every night if you want once things are peachy, but they aren’t now, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

        “I….” Gerard begins, “I don’t….”

        Frank gives him his best hazel eyes, really milking Gerard’s empathetic vice as he pouts.   
        “I can….” Gerard groans, “I’ll have to text a lot of people!”

        Frank squeals, launching himself across the car and into Gerard’s lap. He wraps his arms around Gerard’s torso, planting sloppy kiss after kiss onto his forehead, cheek, neck, nose, wherever he can get to. After each kiss, he cries, “Thank you!”

        Gerard laughs, rolling over onto his side and opening the car door. He steps out, letting Frank fall over onto the drivers’ seat. Gerard turns, motioning for Frank to get on his back.

        Frank hops on, and the two have quite the struggle shutting the car door, and an even bigger challenge with opening the door to the house. They make it in, Gerard telling,

        “You’re helping me text everyone, goddamn it.”

        “Deal!” Frank chirps, slipping a hand into Gerard’s back pocket. Gerard tenses beneath Frank’s palm, but Frank fails to notice, yanking Gerard’s cell phone out opening a mass text cancelling the party.

        “What should I say?” Frank asks. “Maybe your dog is sick?”

        Gerard eases down the basement steps, slowly bringing a hand over to the railing. “I don’t have a dog.”

        “And?”

        Gerard chuckles, “They’ve been to my house, they know I don’t have a dog!”

        Frank thumbs the keys absently, suggesting, “I could say your parents came home early.”

        “That’ll do,” Gerard decides, reaching the bottom of the staircase. He stumbles over to the bed, his knees weak from the long trip (the trip not long in length but in effort due to Frank being on his back the entire time).

        He flops onto the bed, Frank sending the text and tossing the phone to the recliner.

        Gerard faces Frank in bed, leaning into him and kissing the base of his neck. “You know,” he pules into Frank’s skin. He drags his teeth across his collarbone, nibbling on it gently. “We have all night to ourselves.”

        Gerard glances up to see Frank’s reaction, to see his boyfriend’s eyes shut. Gerard’s about to yell at him for sleeping while he was being sexy, when he realizes that Frank’s eyes aren’t shut because of unconsciousness, but because of bliss. Frank’s fly is wide open, showing off a triangle of blue briefs, bulging at the front from Frank’s hand wedged under them.

        Gerard forces himself to interrupt Frank, closing his hand tightly around the younger boy’s wrist. Frank stops, eyeing Gerard. “Dude.”

        Gerard moves Frank’s arm out of the way, setting it at his side. “Let me.” He slides his hand down Frank’s underwear, wrapping his fingers around the tip of his cock.

        Frank’s breath catches in a throat, and nothing but a helpless whining is audible as Gerard strokes him, bringing his thumb up and down the shaft of Frank’s cock.

        Gerard kneels, setting his stomach to the mattress to lick Frank’s length, protruding from the open slot in his briefs. He swipes his tongue around the head a few times, occasionally peeking up at Frank to see if he’s doing a good job. Frank’s hands are clenching at the bed sheets and his hips are arching upward, so Gerard can assume that Frank’s enjoying the ride.

        Gerard takes Frank all in, bobbing his head and grazing his teeth against the skin gently. Frank laces his fingers into Gerard’s hair, assisting Gerard’s rhythm with closed eyes and sweaty palms.

        Gerard focuses then on the head, determined to get Frank to orgasm. He brings his tongue up the side, zigzagging, and then drags it around the head, flicking it over the tip. He sucks on the girth, reaching one hand up blindly to find Frank’s hand. Frank meets him halfway, grasping Gerard’s cold hand with his own clammy paw.

        Gerard can hear Frank’s pants hitch, the frequency and tone of them morphing steadily. Gerard slows down as Frank comes, swallowing before he can even weigh his options.

        Gerard lays on his back, slightly worn down himself. He strips out of his clothing, encouraging Frank to do the same, which he does, obediently pulling off his school uniform with no reluctance. He sets it on the nightstand, then curling up into Gerard’s arms.

        Gerard’s phone gives a buzz from across the room. Gerard gazes over Frank’s shoulder, wondering who it could be from.

        “You going to answer it?” Frank asks.

        “Pfft,” Gerard scoffs. He nestles back into Frank’s skin, inhaling deeply. “I’m staying here.”

        “Staying with me?” Frank questions, smoothing one of Gerard’s many cowlicks.

        “Yep,” Gerard agrees. He curls his fingers on Frank’s hip, promising, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 


	16. Chapter 16

        The two teens lie there, so wrapped up in each other that they don’t hear the descending footsteps going down the stairs.

        In fact, they don’t notice Pete or Mikey standing there until Pete clears his throat loudly.

        Looking over, Frank immediately rolls himself in the blanket, leaving Gerard’s naked body on display. Mikey slaps a hand over his eyes, but Pete just smirks, watching Gerard hastily grab a pillow and cover himself, simultaneously punching Frank in the arm.

        “Why is the party cancelled?” Mikey demands. “Mom and Dad aren’t coming.” He scrunches his nose, asking, “It wasn’t so you two could hook up, was it?”

        “No!” Frank insists. He stands, wrapping the blanket around his waist. “Gerard could’ve gotten hurt tonight, and we didn’t want that.” Frank snatches his briefs off the nightstand, stepping into them as he adds, “The hooking up just sort of happened.”

        “How? How could he have possibly gotten hurt?” Mikey snaps.

        “Michelle’s fucking psycho boyfriend, that’s how,” Frank retorts hotly.

        “Why would he want anything to do with Gerard?” Pete wonders.

        “Because Gerard fucked his girlfriend, and there’s been bad vibes ever since. He’s already been-”

        “Um, Frank?” Gerard interrupts. He points at his boxers, hooked on the lampshade.

        “Oh, right,” Frank mutters, grabbing the underwear and tossing them to Gerard. He proceeds, “He and one of his friends already jumped Gerard, and there’s a pretty fat chance that they’d do it again, given the opportunity.”

        “Is that…” Pete mumbles. “Oh, is that why that Caleb kid was fucking with you the other day?”

        Gerard furrows his brows. “You _saw_ that?”

        “Well, yeah, but not all of it. I just saw him talking to you, kinda pinning you. But I figured he was just fucking around,” Pete responds honestly.

        “Well it fucking hurt,” Gerard grumbles.

        “We should still throw one,” Mikey whines. “This is our last chance for like the rest of the month.”

        “What if he shows up?” Frank questions.

        “He’s not invited,” Mikey answers simply.

        “Y’know, word gets out about these things fast,” Pete points out, actually siding with Gerard and Frank. “He’ll find out, and knowing him, he’ll be looking for trouble.”

        “So what do you suggest we do, Slim Shady?” Mikey sneers.

        Pete self-consciously runs a hand through his newly bleached hair. “Shut up.”

        “It looks good, Pete,” Frank comforts, having noticed the blond locks upon Pete’s entrance, but also too caught up in covering himself and arguing with Mikey to say anything.

        “Yeah,” Gerard agrees.

        “Look,” Pete begins. He digs into his back pocket, pulling out a crumpled paper bag. “I’ve got this weed, and I propose that we have a quiet night in and take this pot off my hands, if you know what I mean.”

        Mikey swipes the pot from his hands, scolding, “Not in my house, we aren’t. I don’t want it smelling like a Sublime concert in here.”

        “Mikes, will you relax?” Gerard orders. “I’m actually impartial to this idea.”

        “Gerard, we’re not in fucking seventh grade anymore; don’t you think we’re past smoking weed?” Mikey asks.

        “Wow, Michael, you are totally right,” Gerard mocks. “We’re too old for pot. It’s time to move onto crystal meth.”

        “Bite me,” Mikey scowls.

        Pete sits on the bed, ripping out a nearby sheet of paper from Gerard’s notebook. He pats Gerard’s bare thigh, greeting, “How are you, bud?”

        “G-good,” Gerard stammers, squirming uncomfortably in his underwear. He manages to crawl behind Pete, crossing the room to change into a pair of fleece pajama bottoms and a Smiths tee shirt. He tosses Frank a pair of plaid pajama pants as well as a cutoff tee, which Frank puts on gratefully, having to roll up the bottoms of the pants to avoid tripping on the long hems.

        They join Pete on the bed, Mikey across the room in the recliner as they smoke. They try to convince Mikey to join them, or at least sit by them, but Mikey’s adamant about how he doesn’t want to take a shower and will have to if he’s too close to the smoke.

        Frank ends up having a coughing fit a couple of minutes in, and Gerard has to rub his back as he hacks loudly.

        “Jesus Christ, Iero, cut yourself a break,” Pet sighs.

        Frank shakes his head, tears in his eyes as he brings the joint back to his lips. “It feels too good.”

        Gerard rolls his eyes, inhaling deeply.

        Pete’s trying to make smoke rings, and failing, the curve of his lips only releasing small mushroom clouds as opposed to hoops. He grows discouraged, and occupies himself with picking at a loose thread on his shirt.

        There are quite a few minutes of silence, the boys effectively killing their brain cells and burning their eyes to crimson shades.  The quiet is broken by Mikey heading upstairs, calling, “I’m going upstairs, holler if you need me.”

        “Wait up!” Pete chirps, hopping off the mattress. He holds his joint between his lips as he collects his phone and shoes, winking at us before pursuing Mikey up the basement stairs.

        Frank coughs once more, gagging and almost vomiting.

        “Frank, fucking quit it. You’re going to hack up a lung,” Gerard advises.

        Frank takes one more puff before stubbing the flame out on the wooden nightstand, leaving the smallest singe mark. “I guess you’re right.”

        “Why were you so insistent on smoking, anyways?” Gerard asks.

        “Remember what I said in the lunchroom? I wanted to know what it’s like,” Frank replies. He gazes over at the burnt out joint, admitting, “That was probably a one-time experience.”

        Gerard nods, admitting, “I can understand that, actually. You ever wanted to break a bone, just to know what it feels like?”

        Frank nods, watching Gerard throw his own joint to the floor and toe it, easing the embers out. “I’d like to rip Michelle a new one.”

        “Why?” Frank asks.

        “She was the one to tell him what happened between us,” Gerard confesses. “But if I said anything, then I’d just be in trouble again.”  
        “Sticky situation,” Frank concludes.

        “Speaking of which,” Gerard starts. “The school may or may not know you’re gay.”

        Frank’s red eyes merely blink. He’s too high to be able to worry, so he just says, “Hey, the cat’s out of the bag.”

        Gerard giggles, then turning serious, warning, “Well, all that anyone knows is that I’m dating a dude but…” Gerard looks away, admitting, “I spend so much time with you that I figured it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to put it together.”

        “What are you saying?”

        Gerard meets Frank’s eyes, admonishing, “Watch your back. Just be careful, alright?”

        “Okay,” Frank agrees quietly. “I will be.”

        


	17. Chapter 17

Frank isn’t very concerned about Gerard’s words overnight, where he sleeps. The two wake up in the morning, and with Gerard next to him, Frank can actually smile at the beginning of a school day.

He and Gerard even arrive at school early, early enough to actually sit with Pete (fresh from morning cross country practice) in the cafeteria and have breakfast.

Pete eats like he’s dying, wolfing down muffins and donuts and a total of four cartons of milk. He explains between mouthfuls that this is what running does to you; it turns you into an animal, a distorted beast of your past self.

Frank nods, not understanding the point of running if you’re going to eat and gain every calorie back. He sips on his juice and tears away at his waffle sticks slowly, stuffing bits of bread into his mouth.

He’s not very hungry. He’s a little nervous that other kids have found out about his relationship with Gerard. Upon walking in, they had received a few stares, and when Frank sat down, he noticed an entire table of freshman with their eyes glued on him, talking in hushed tones.

His stomach rolls, and so he stuffs the remains of his breakfast into one of Pete’s empty milk cartons, tossing it into a nearby trash.

They hang out in the cafeteria until the bell rings, spanning the three teens across the floors of the building.

Frank takes his seat at the front of the room, not daring to meet the eyes of anyone.

The bell rings, and thus Mr. Garrison starts writing a gospel’s worth of information about geometry on the board, mumbling to himself.

This is when Frank starts to hear the whispering.

It starts off with him hearing his name but brushing it off as nothing. However, after the fourth time, he’s pretty sure he’s being talked about, literally behind his back.

His eyes start to wander as the whispering grows louder, and they meet the gaze of Derek, a football player in the grade above Frank. Derek glances over to the teacher before swiftly giving Frank a blow job gesture, then mouthing, ‘fag’.

The muffled snickering that ensues is almost deafening, and Frank retaliates by flipping the boy off with a scowl.

The boy responds as though Frank had murdered his family, hissing angrily, “The little shit flipped me off!”

The first spitball hits Frank’s shoulder. Frank turns his head slightly, flicking off the offending speck. He’s then hit by several more, all coming from the desks of Derek and his nearby friends. A big one hits his neck, and he gives up on picking them off, eventually feeling decorated as a Christmas tree.

They get discouraged when his reaction stops, so they opt to flick thumbtacks at him instead.

Frank’s throat starts to swell with tears, and he finds himself looking up to force them back. The bell rings and he rushes out of the room, despite the fact that he’s in that same classroom the succeeding period.

In his desperate haste, he rushes into the boys’ room, despite the fact that he’s being tailed by Derek and his posse.

Frank runs inside, banging on each stall door urgently to assure no one’s in there. Little does he know, anyone else being in there would prove useful.

Derek kicks the door open, sauntering in with his friends flanking him.

“Kick his ass,” one encourages.

Derek prowls over, and Frank heads for a stall, to be grabbed by the back of his shirt and roughly pulled back, making him choke and cough.

He’s given no time to recover; he’s promptly punched in the gut by the boy, who lets Frank drop to the floor.

Frank, biting back tears and struggling for breath, lies on his stomach, his arms wrapped protectively over his middle. Derek crouches down closer to him, growling, “You’re a fucking freak, Iero.” He spits on Frank, standing slowly. “Come on,” Derek orders. “We don’t want this little faggot to make us late.”

The boys hurry off to their next classes, leaving Frank on the floor, winded, and crying, with bodily fluid dripping down his cheek. He staggers to his feet, limping to the paper towels and using one to wipe the saliva off his face.

          Sluggishly proceeding to his next class, he hardly makes it on time, despite the fact that it was in that same classroom. He sits in the back of the class, not saying a word the entire period, his head ducked and eyes fixed onto his lap.

His phone goes off in third period, the message ‘you’re a faggot’ flashing across his screen. He sighs, texting back, ‘who is this’, only to receive the text, ‘blow me’.

Frank rolls his eyes, turning his phone off of vibrate and to silent. When he checks it at lunch, he has a total of 8 messages all from unidentifiable numbers, which he deletes without reading.

          “Frank, you alright?” Gerard asks.

“Yeah, why?” Frank lies.

“You seem tense,” Gerard mumbles, glancing from person to person.

“I’m fine,” Frank mutters, digging his phone back into his pocket. He sets his head on Gerard’s shoulder, groaning, “I’m just tired.”

“Welcome to being a high school student,” Mikey scoffs. “Pick up your condom and Adderall at the door.”

Gerard laughs, running a hand through Frank’s hair.

Mikey’s eyes go up past Gerard’s head, and he warns, “Gerard, there’s some douchebags coming.”

Gerard turns his head, sizing up the boys approaching them. Gerard could easily take any one of them in a fight, but all four of them, that would be a different story.

“Hey, Iero!” one of them calls.

Frank clenches up, burying his face further into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Gerard…”

“Iero!” he repeats, more stern than last time. He bends over, spitting, “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Gerard rises, planting himself in front of Frank. “You look at me, shithead. Fucking leave him alone before you get hit.”

His friends come in closer, one of them pushing Gerard.

The kid scoffs, towering over Gerard. “And who’s going to hit me? Gerard Faggotface Way?”

Gerard curls his hand into a fist, fuming.

“Gerard, the teacher’s looking,” Frank whispers, eyebrows knitted.

“Twink boy’s got a point,” the taller boy smirks, backing off. “Let’s go, guys.” The pack of teens head back in the direction they had come from.

“You had a rough morning, didn’t you?” Gerard questions.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Frank murmurs, picking at his fingernails.

Gerard places a hand on Frank’s knee under the table, and the gesture calms him down, enough so that he can make it through the rest of the day.


	18. Chapter 18

They all ship off to Gerard’s house after school, Pete and Mikey hanging out upstairs watching a movie and Gerard and Frank venturing down into Gerard’s basement. Upon entering, Gerard lies down in bed, patting the open spot next to him welcomingly.

Frank fills the vacant space, curling into a fetal position, his nose nuzzled against Gerard’s chest.

There’s a silence, a few minutes where the two boys lay there, Gerard staring out at nothing, and Frank’s eyes closed, listening to the sound of his boyfriend’s heartbeat.

Gerard breaks the silence, almost startling Frank by asking, “You’re going to tell me what happened, right?”

Franks sighs, not bothering to open his eyes. He almost finds it easier to tell Gerard these things not looking at him. “Everyone was making fun of me in first period. Do you… you know Derek, right?”

Gerard nods, asking, “The football player?”

“Yeah,” Frank mumbles. “He was doing the blow job sign, and so I flipped him off. They started throwing things at me, and I got upset and ran to the bathroom after the bell. They followed me, and Derek punched me in the stomach, spit on me, and called me a freak and faggot before leaving.”

Gerard sighs deeply, making Frank’s resting head rise and fall with his chest. “I’m so fucking done with kids at this school.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Frank admits. “This was just the first day. You almost got into a fistfight.”

“I know,” Gerard agrees, rubbing a temple with his freehand. His other hand resides on the small of Frank’s back. “I just… maybe talk to the guidance counselor? You can definitely report Derek.”

“I dunno about that,” Frank responds. “I flipped him off, isn’t that considered aggravating or something?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard mutters. “It might be worth a shot.”

“I also got some texts,” Frank murmurs, sliding his phone from his pocket. Searching through his messages, he adds, “I must’ve deleted them all. There were 9 texts from 9 numbers not in my contacts. I only read one, which was telling me to blow them.”

Gerard groans, complaining, “This fucking sucks. Literally everyone is against us. We can’t fight 400 kids.”

“Maybe… let’s throw a party this weekend,” Frank suggests.

“Who would come now?” Gerard asks. “They all think I’m a freak.”

“They’ll come,” Frank assures. “Tell them there’ll be drugs and they’ll come like moths to a light.”

“Why would we want them to?” Gerard asks. “I don’t get your logic here.”

“See, what we’ll do here is we’ll get Derek to show up. Pete is fucking slick, that little shit will talk him up and hang out and get him drunk. Mikey can help, too. So, once he’s like fall over drunk, we’ll put him in bed. Once he’s asleep, you or me, but probably you, get naked or at least mostly naked and climb in bed next to him. Make sure you’re there for when he wakes up, and we’ll strip him down too. That way when he wakes up, he’ll think he slept with you and hopefully lay off of us. We can fabricate the whole thing and then use it as blackmail,” Frank plots. “We’ll take pictures to prove it, of course. Just keep the naughty bits out, because no way in hell am I going to juvenile court for child pornography.”

Gerard peers down at Frank, whose eyes are still shut and face calm. “Okay, that solves our Derek problem, but what about everyone else?”

“Are you kidding me? Derek’s bigger than Jesus to kids at our school. All we do is make him tell his friends to lay off, otherwise we send them the pictures,” Frank explains. “I don’t have the crayons or time to make it any simpler.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, asking, “Are you sure this will work? If we fuck up, he’ll kick our asses.”

“And if we do nothing, he’ll kick our asses,” Frank counters. “It’s worth a shot.”

Gerard kisses the top of Frank’s head, mumbling into his hair, “For me to get into bed with him, this better fucking pay off.”

“Oh, it will,” Frank promises. “Call Mikey and Pete down here, let’s get them up to speed.”

Once the dilemma is explained to Mikey and Pete, the boys all sit there quietly. Finally, Pete asks,

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Everyone at school hates us and Derek and other kids want to kick our asses to pulp,” Frank replies. “This will get them to stop, if successful.”

“It better be,” Mikey grumbles. “I hate Derek. I don’t want to help get him drunk.”

“Wait, why do you hate him?” Gerard asks. “I thought you guys were on alright terms.”

Mikey shakes his head, pushing his glasses further up onto his nose. “No, he pulled my pants down a few weeks ago. Needless to say, I’m not a fan of him or anything he does.”

“Do you want to see him put in his place?” Frank asks. “Because this is the way to do it.”

Mikey grimaces, shrugging as he says, “Yeah, I guess I’ll do it.”

“Pete?” Gerard questions.

“Oh, I was in it from the get go,” Pete answers.

“So we’re set? This Friday?” Frank inquiries.

All three nod, their eyes darting to each teen for some sort of reassurance, a promise that this will work. Unfortunately, no such promises exist.

“Alright,” Frank concludes. “Pete, you can start texting people to come over. Lie if  you have to, say there’ll be cocaine and that I’m going to get my ass kicked or something. Kids would pay to see that.”

“What do you want me to do?” Mikey asks.

“You can start getting liquor,” Frank offers. “We will need _a lot_ , especially to get a fucking lineman drunk.”

“And me?” Gerard questions.

“Well, I guess just try to watch your back until Friday,” Frank replies. “Look cute, and make sure you’re camera ready Friday night.”

“What does that mean?” Gerard wonders.

“It means don’t wear your strawberry panties,” Frank responds. “Remember that Derek’s going to wake up.”

Gerard turns bright red at the mention of his fruit patterned underwear, and his eyes dart over to Pete and Mikey. Mikey has his hands covering his ears as he scolds Frank, “I don’t want to hear this shit.” Pete merely smiles, teasing, “Gerard, could I see those by any chance?”

“Stuff it, Wentz,” Gerard growls, hiding his face under the blanket.

“Wait,” Pete interjects, his texting suddenly ceasing. “What happens if he catches on?”

“Then we go down together,” Frank replies simply. “Four of us can surely take him, right? If not, so what?”

Pete and Mikey look at each other, Mikey returning his hands to his pockets.

“You guys, if this doesn’t work, I really don’t know what I’m going to do,” Frank confesses.

“What do you mean ‘doesn’t work’?” Pete comforts. He strides over, patting Frank’s shoulder. “It’s going to work, alright? I guarantee it.”

Frank smiles, knowing that Pete, while warm hearted, is not the most reliable person on the planet when it comes to predictions or even general knowledge. But this time, he knows he can take his word for it. 


	19. Chapter 19

By fifth period of the next day, Frank’s doubting whether or not he can wait until Friday to end the tormenting. It’s not even lunch and already he has been pushed to the point of tears.

When he gets to lunch with swollen, dry eyes, it’s obvious for anyone to tell he’s upset. Upon sitting down, he’s asked by Gerard, “Frank, what’s the matter?”

“What do you think?” Frank grumbles, lowering his backpack to the floor. “Different guys today, though. Have to appreciate a change of scenery.”

Gerard clicks his tongue, mumbling, “Friday better come soon.”

Frank groans, complaining, “I’m tired of being picked on. I want to go home.”

“I don’t understand why you’re getting the worse end of all this,” Gerard admits. “No one’s laid a finger on me today.”

“It’s because you’re bigger,” Frank replies flatly. “And stronger. They know better.”

“Just get through today, alright?” Gerard advises. “Friday will be here sooner than you think.”

“I hardly doubt that, but I appreciate the effort,” Frank mutters. He lays his head on the lunch table, too unsettled to eat. Gerard rubs his back throughout the period, failing to notice a table of boys staring daggers into Frank’s back.

In the parking lot after school is when things get bad. Frank’s walking to Gerard’s car, making a beeline for the vehicle with his head down, determined to avoid everybody. Unfortunately for him, a group of boys from the grade above him emerge from behind a nearby vehicle, stepping in front of him and stopping him in his tracks.

The parking lot is congested with children, many who stop to observe the scene. A boy with dark eyes leans on the hood of his car, lighting a cigarette. A girl squints into the afternoon sun, and two teens duck behind a pine tree to make out. Frank fails to notice these little details; he’s too worried about the big picture, the fact that these boys are about to beat the snot out of him.

“Hey, faggot,” one of them spits. Frank hardly even knows the kid, and it hits him how much people have really been talking behind his back.

Frank tries to make a run for it and is tackled, bringing him to the gravel. He’s pinned on his belly, and instantly, his mind goes back to that awful first day of school.

He feels a hand by his waistband, and he knows exactly what’s coming next as he’s grabbed by the underwear, which is tugged up his back.

The moment seems to go in slow motion. Frank can hear a boy off to the side protest, “Guys, no!” Another agrees, “He’s a little kid, leave him alone.” This doesn’t stop the bullies, who proceed to laugh and pull until there’s a tear in Frank’s boxers.

“Hey, dickheads!”

Frank turns to see who had said it to have his head slammed against the ground. Again, he knows precisely what’s going on, despite his limited view.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Gerard growls. “I swear to god I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

“You talk a lot of shit, Way,” one of the boys scoff. “Ten bucks says you won’t do shit.”

“I don’t have any money on me,” Gerard spits. “I guess I’m going to have to win, then.” With that, he punches one of the kids square in the jaw, dropping him like a rock. Two of the teens proceed to advance on Gerard, one getting kicked in the crotch and the other being shoved back onto his ass. Gerard delivers a kick to his chest, sending him on his back. Finally, Frank is released, as his attacker moves towards Gerard, decking him in the eye.

Gerard is the one to fall this time, hands clasped over his eye. He begins to cry; Frank can hear his stifling sobs. Frank’s getting up as he sees the teens swarm around Gerard, all kicking him. Frank stands conflicted, unsure of what to do. He wouldn’t be much help even if he tried, but he can’t just stand there and watch.

Clenching his fists, he flings himself at one of the teens, bringing him to the ground, possibly landing on Gerard; Frank doesn’t know; he can’t pay attention. All he sees is white, and the only audio is the dull thudding sound of his knuckles meeting bone.  

It’s not long before he comes to, remembers where and who he is. He now realizes that he’d forgotten those things in the first place. Looking up, he sees the three boys, their jaws agape in horror. Looking down, Frank sees that he’s straddling one of his aggressors, who’s been beaten bloody and unconscious. Gazing at his own blood spattered fists; Frank puts two and two together.

Standing solemnly, he helps Gerard to his feet, walking swiftly to the car, his arm wrapped around Gerard.  

“Frank,” Gerard sniffles. He wipes his eyes on his sleeve, and then looks at Frank, asking, “What the fuck was that?”

Frank shrugs, admitting, “I can’t really remember what happened.”

Gerard furrows his brows, hopping into the drivers’ seat. “It was kinda scary, you know. Your eyes got all dark and you were just banging his head against the ground. You were swearing the whole time, too.”

“Are you serious? What’d I say?”

Gerard shrugs. “ ‘Fucking cunt, fucking die.’ Something like that. You were pretty repetitive.”

“Jesus Christ,” Frank exhales. “I could use a cigarette right now.”

Gerard, withdrawing a pack from his pocket, asks, “Are you sure? You know what with your respiratory problems and all-”

“I’m fine,” Frank snaps. “Just give me a fucking cigarette.”

Hurt, Gerard pouts, handing his boyfriend a cigarette nonetheless. He lights it for him, and Frank apologizes, “I’m sorry, just… tensions are running high, you know? I’m not mad at you, I’m not.”  
“Friday’s two days away,” Gerard reminds. “Just two more days, alright?”

Frank nods, contemplating, how he’s supposed to get there in one piece.


	20. Chapter 20

Things don’t prove any better the succeeding day. At first, Frank believes that everyone forgot about him and Gerard, either that or got used to their relationship. However, he is rudely proved wrong after gym class.

Gym is the period before lunch, so Frank is taking his time showering and getting dressed. In fact, most of the boys are, emerging naked from the showers as the bell rings.

Frank is the last to come out, towel clinging to his wet hips and water dripping down his back. Stopping in front of his locker, he drops his towel, stepping into a striped pair of briefs.

It’s at that moment that he hears the locker room door open loudly. He initially brushes it off as nothing; boys frequent the locker room at all times of the day. It’s when he’s grabbing by the neck and shoved up against the locker that he starts to worry.   
“Remember us, freak?” a voice growls in his ear.

Frank’s throat tightens, and he asks, in a small voice, “The… the guys from yesterday?”  
“Be more specific, you fucking retard,” the boy spits.

“In… in the parking lot,” Frank recalls. “I… you guys gave me a wedgie.”

“Yeah, and then your asshole boyfriend Gerard came over and fucked everything up,” he snarls. “But we got him; we were beating that little shit’s ass into the ground. Then you… you had to fuck up _everything.”_

“What… what’d I do?” Frank stammers.  
“Like you don’t remember.”

Frank struggles to recall what had actually happened. All he can retain is Gerard mentioning Frank hitting that kids head against the ground and swearing at him. As he strains to remember, the details begin to come into focus, the sound of his fists against the boy’s jaw, the sickly thump of his skull against the ground, the smell of blood on his hands…

“You gave him a concussion, y’know,” one of the boys speaks up. “You fucked him up bad, Iero.”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Frank insists.

“Bullshit you are!” the main kid snaps, slamming Frank’s forehead against the locker.

Frank’s head begins to throb, and he resists the urge to press a palm to the pain in his skull.

“What are we going to do to you to level the playing field?”

“Eye for an eye,” another cuts in.

Frank screws his eyes shut. He’d rather take a wedgie at this point. “Fucking get it over with.”

“What was that, Frankie?” he sneers.

“Enough with the fucking suspense, what do you think this is, the Sixth Sense? Just do whatever you’re going to do,” Frank barks.

“Fair enough.”

Frank’s pried from the lockers, immediately having his arms pinned behind his back. He suddenly feels very exposed with his arms incapacitated and thighs bare, naked spare a thin piece of cloth. He is literally taking these boys on in nothing but his skivvies. He better get some sort of medal for this.

“Fuck you guys,” Frank curses. Craning his neck to search for help, he notices that everyone from his class has either left or is quietly watching.

The boy who must’ve been pinning Frank grins, punching him in the gut in a swift uppercut that knocks Frank up onto his tippy toes.

Frank’s shoulder is grabbed, rooting him to his spot as he is punched several more times in the stomach. He can see the skin getting red and swollen already.

He’s then hit in the nose, which makes him start to cry as the blood runs, pooling on his lower lip and chin. Another blow to the eye brings him quickly to his feet, despite one of the boy’s efforts to keep him standing.

Hunched over, clutching his face blindly, Frank is kicked harshly in the ribs, making him crash to his stomach. He rolls into a fetal position, ducking his head as he’s kicked by all of the boys.

“Beg us to stop, faggot,” one of them calls. “We’ll stop when you whine for it.”

Frank does no such thing, sobbing as he’s kicked over and over.

“Fucking beg for it, pussy,” another curses, kicking Frank in the side of the head. Frank yelps, further curling into a ball.

“He won’t,” another scoffs, giving up. “Fuck you, Iero.”

“Tell Gerard we said hi,” another chimes in, also ceasing.

The last boy delivers a few more kicks to Frank’s side, then balling up Frank’s clothes, which had been sitting folded on a nearby bench the entire time. Taking his garments with him, he drops them a ways down the hall, whilst another boy empties the trash over Frank.

Frank slowly climbs to his feet, realizing he’s totally alone in the large room. He’s still crying, but not as a physical consequence of his injuries. He strides over to the sink, where he washes the blood from his face, noting that his eye refuses to open fully.

He wraps a towel around his waist and faces his problem head on, limping slightly into the hallway to collect his clothes. Only a few teens spot him from inside the cafeteria, and he hobbles as quickly as he can back into the locker room to get dressed.

He’s so late to lunch that everyone’s already been served, so he opts not to eat. Gerard insists that Frank take some of his food, but Frank declines, replying, “I’m not hungry.”

Gerard frowns, sighing, “Look, do you want to stay home from school tomorrow? I mean, I know tomorrow’s Friday and all but, the way things are going, you might not make it to the party.”

Frank nods. “That’d probably be best.”

“Who did this?” Gerard demands. “Was it the assholes from the parking lot?”

“Gerard, don’t worry about it,” Frank begs. “Please? It’s not worth it.”

“I’m fucking walking you to the car,” Gerard grumbles. “I’ll meet you at your locker, okay?”

“Alright.”

Gerard sticks to his promise, practically escorting Frank out to his car. Once inside, they’re sure to lock the doors. They head out, and Frank finds himself angry, pissed off at those teens for making a fool out of him, humiliating him not only in the parking lot, but also in the locker room. He knows that Derek is the indirect cause of all of this, and he’s counting down the hours until he finally gets his.


	21. Chapter 21

Frank is happy to sleep in the following morning. Despite this, he still finds the time to wake up early for the sole purpose of saying goodbye to Gerard, who leaves Frank with a kiss on the cheek and pat on the thigh.

Frank immediately falls back asleep upon his boyfriend’s departure, and he stays unconscious until around noon. When he wakes up, he makes himself some lunch, his stomach a tad uneasy. He can’t even begin to think about what would happen if Derek realized their scheme. It would end in tears and blood. Mostly blood.

He watches a film to take his mind off of it, sneaking a cigarette from one of Gerard’s jacket pockets. He sits in bed, twirling the cigarette between his fingers, looking at it more than he actually smokes it.

He spends most of his afternoon moping around, looking lost with Gerard not at his side. He ends up waiting for him by the door like a dog awaiting the arrival of its owner, except he tries to play it off like that wasn’t his intention.

Gerard gets home, greeting, “Hey, Ferris Bueller.”

“I don’t get it,” Frank complains, curled up in a blanket.

Gerard kicks off his shoes, sliding underneath the covers with Frank. “Wentz and Mikey will be over soon.”

“Are we going to go over the game plan?” Frank asks.

“Yeah. Mikey’s still sort of nervous.”

Frank decides to omit the fact that he’s been having second thoughts himself, responding, “Everything will go fine.”

That’s what he hopes.

Mikey and Pete do make it over, leaving it to Frank to explain everything. Mikey ends up asking to step down, explaining, “I really feel like he won’t drink in front of me.”

“That’s fine,” Frank replies. “Just hang out. Have fun.”

“Wait a minute, so I have to be with the idiot alone now?” Pete asks.

“Probably,” Gerard answers honestly.   
      Pete groans, assuring, “I’ll do it, but I’m not happy about it.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Frank reasons. “He likes you.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Pete retorts. “Do you know what he does to people he _likes?_ ”

“I have an idea,” Mikey cuts in.

Pete nods vigorously, warning, “If that asshole gives me a wedgie, I’m going to deck him on the spot.”

“No, Pete! You can’t start a fight with him,” Frank insists. “Just fake nice, you can do it.”

Pete rolls his eyes, nonetheless agreeing, “Yeah, fine. Okay.”

Gerard turns to Frank, telling, “We best go upstairs when the party starts. Wouldn’t want to run into Derek or anyone else, for that matter.”

Gerard was right in taking that precaution; almost all of the boys’ enemies turn up within hours, and for one sole reason, that motivator being drugs.

Pete gets right to work on getting Derek drunk, fixing him a few drinks consecutively. Bending over to pull a beer from the bottom shelf of the Ways’ fridge, Pete suddenly finds his boxer briefs halfway up his back.

He knows right away that Derek’s responsible, yet he lets out an involuntary squeal as he squirms free, forcing a chuckle. He hands Derek another beer, figuring that he’ll have to get him good and drunk to make the fucking loser bearable.

That’s exactly what Pete does. After two beers he’s tipsy, three more and he’s drunk, and three still and he’s absolutely shit faced.

Pete ends up waiting for him to pass out, then swinging the larger boy over his shoulders. Struggling down the steps to Gerard’s room, he assures surrounding partygoers, “I’m gonna find this guy a place to crash.”

Once he’s there, he drops Derek off in the bed, getting to work on tearing off his shoes, tossing them randomly across the room, followed by his shirt. Pete tugs his jeans off, leaving them balled up on the floor. For an even more lasting impression, he ruffles Derek’s hair to really push the idea that he had sex.

Gerard pushes into the room, followed by Frank. Pete leaves, and Gerard thanks him quietly, patting his shoulder as he goes.

Gerard quickly disrobes, Frank watching with mild interest. His jaw tightens as Gerard climbs into the same bed as Derek, naked spare his boxers. Gerard can’t help but notice, and he remarks, “You know, this was _your_ idea.”

      “I know, I know,” Frank mutters. “Just… don’t get too handsy, okay? A-and don’t let him snuggle with you in his sleep. Also, you shouldn’t-”

      “Frank,” Gerard interrupts. “I got it, don’t worry. You head on out, I can take things from here.”

      “O-okay,” Frank stammers, exiting. He goes back upstairs to hang out with Pete, who assures him that Gerard knows exactly what he’s doing down there.

      Gerard lay in bed, gazing over at Derek with boredom. He’s supposed to wait for this rock to wake up? This’ll take ages. He settles in, thinking about nothing at all and struggling to stay alert.

      Remembering that they hadn’t taken any photos, Pete and Frank return to Gerard’s room, opening the door quietly.

      “Hey,” Gerard greets softly.

      Frank waves, and takes out his phone, prompting Gerard to pretend he’s asleep. “Just look like you’re sleeping, alright?”  

      “Wait a minute,” Gerard cuts in. “If this is supposed to make him think he slept with me, why would anyone have pictures of it? Besides me, I mean.”

      “Good point,” Frank mumbles, handing Gerard his phone.

Gerard takes a total of thirteen pictures, all of which he sends to himself as backups. He returns the phone to Frank, just in time for Derek to shuffle in his sleep. Frank and Pete run off, leaving Gerard there.

Gerard never actually thought about what he’d say or do when Derek actually woke up. Turning on his side and facing the larger boy, he gazes at him with drooped eyes, mocking to be as tired as Derek.

Derek blinks himself awake, and rolling over, comes face to face with Gerard. “The fuck?”

“Don’t you remember?” Gerard asks. He pouts, running a hand up and down Derek’s arm.

“What…” Derek whines. He looks down, and seems to become very aware of the fact that both he and Gerard are nearly naked.

He falls out of bed, scrambling to cover himself. He snatches a blanket from Gerard’s mattress, wrapping it around his waist and standing. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“ _You_ were the one who brought me in here,” Gerard ad libs.

In a panic, Derek runs a hand through his hair. He stumbles through the room hotly, collecting his clothes and putting them on. “You… you don’t tell anyone about this, alright? I’ll beat your little ass.”

“Au contraire,” Gerard replies. Leaning back in bed, he lights a cigarette and begins smoking. He elaborates, “You’re going to stop treating Frank and I like shit, and your friends are going to knock it off too, or I’m going to spread this little secret of ours.”

Derek turns white as a sheet, stammering, “W-well I’ll tell Frank. Your little bottom wouldn’t want to know you slept with another guy.”

“Actually, we’re in an open ended relationship,” Gerard lies. “Basically, we’re fuck buddies.”

“Shit. Just… gimme a week, alright? Your guys’ names will be cleared in a week.”

“Too long.”

“Three days, max. Things might be rocky Monday or Tuesday, but it’ll be good by Wednesday, I swear.”

“Done deal, Derek,” Gerard agrees.

Derek heads for the door, and Gerard calls, “Don’t let this go on past Wednesday!”


	22. Chapter 22

By Monday, things had already considerably died down. Yes, the two are still whispered about, but Frank has no direct conflicts the entire day, a drastic change from last week.

That afternoon, as the couple lay in bed watching movies, Gerard admits, “Frank, I gotta hand it to you. I didn’t think this plan would really work. I mean, I knew it’d go alright, but I didn’t think we’d get the right end results. But damn, this is nice.”

“Yeah,” Frank agrees. “My first period class went about twelve times better than it had last week. That was awful.”

“Well, yeah, but then again, that day was Derek’s fault,” Gerard points out.

“Not all Derek. Kinda the whole class was in on it. Anybody who wasn’t didn’t do anything.”

“That bites,” Gerard mumbles. “But I’m assuming that they weren’t so bad today.”

“They weren’t,” Frank assures. “I didn’t even get any texts.”

“Derek really did his homework over the weekend,” Gerard remarks. He adds, “I mean, his assignment being to clear our names-”

“Yeah I kinda got that.”

Pete and Mikey barge in, Mikey asking, “Did you guys hear?”

“Hear about what?” Frank responds.

“I guess you didn’t,” Mikey mumbles.

“Hear about what?” Frank reiterates.

“Derek got suspended,” Pete cuts in. “And so did some other guys. Something about a fight.”

Gerard and Frank look at each other, and Gerard admits, “It’s our fault isn’t it?”

Frank shrugs, and fakes a cringe. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” Gerard confesses. “You?”

“Nah,” Frank replies.

      “So we’re all in agreement that Derek and anyone else in trouble is a twat and had it coming?” Mikey questions.

      The teens all nod, and for the first time in a while, Frank can laugh without worry. They all hang out and plan a party for the next week, and Pete won’t shut up about Die Hard and Mikey keeps giving him shit for it, and it just feels right. Things are back to normal, whatever that means.

      Frank looks at Gerard, and for a moment, he’s very aware of the fact that he’s actually willing to marry the boy. And the best part is, he’s not even scared.

 

The End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading this you guys! Check out my other works, and leave a kudos or comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon. 
> 
> My Tumblr: www.waydown.co.vu


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